


Breathe With Me

by Kate_Shepard



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Breathplay, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Indoctrinated Kaidan, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, Non-Canon Relationship, Past Kaidan Alenko/Female Shepard, Porn, Porn With Plot, Rescue, Shameless Smut, Smut, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-20 02:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7387720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Shepard/pseuds/Kate_Shepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard is struggling under the weight of the galaxy. Everyone needs something from her. She needs somewhere that she can go to find peace. She finds it in the unlikeliest of places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Non-con elements are in later chapters. Does not involve FemShep/Sparatus. Kaidan is not a good guy in this story.

Shepard could admit she had a bit of a turian fetish. It had started the night with Nihlus before Saren had ended their burgeoning romance on Eden Prime. Then came the night with Garrus before the Omega 4 relay when they'd tried but had ended up having a drunken shooting contest instead when they'd realized their friendship just didn't work that way. She'd eyed Sergeant Haron from C-Sec a few times, but he was just so...submissive. She got enough of that with her crew. Hell, even Admiral Anderson deferred to her most of the time. Hackett was the only one outside of the Council who didn't kowtow to her. 

Lately, the pressure of responsibility threatened to crush her. She didn't need another subordinate. She needed someone, preferably turian, who could take that weight off of her. She'd had a night with the Primarch when he'd found her in the lounge the night his son died. One drink led to another and then comfort and compassion had turned to something more, but he'd made it clear that was a one-time deal. One night in three years just wasn't enough, and even then, she had been the one in control as he'd needed to let go even more than she had.

Her errands through the Citadel never failed to take far longer than anticipated. Everyone needed something from her, everyone wanted a moment of her time. She seemed incapable of turning away someone in need. Today, though, with the demands of the galaxy bearing down on her, with her own and her best friend's homeworlds burning, with Reapers on Tuchanka, with two of her crew in the hospital fighting for their lives and another slowly dying there, she was tapped out. Dealing with Udina always exhausted her and today's meeting was no different. When she ran into the salarian Spectre coming out of Udina's office and had—along with Kasumi, surprisingly enough—stopped an indoctrinated hanar from handing Kahje over to the Reapers, she'd hit the end of her rope. 

She pretended not to hear al-Jilani calling her name and glanced around for somewhere to go to escape the constant demands. Garrus was currently using the Spectre range with her credentials, and while she normally went to him when she needed to get away, she knew that he was in need of some quiet as well and didn't want to bother him. Bailey would inevitably ask something of her. There was nowhere on the Citadel where she was no longer recognized and even her cabin on the ship wasn't the safe haven it once was as Liara had developed a tendency to find her there with some task from her people or just concern over her well-being. 

Her eye fell on the turian councilor's office. She and Sparatus had formed an uneasy alliance since she'd rescued Victus from Menae and hosted the war summit. He didn't ask things of her and seemed to be as much of a loner as she. She made her stride purposeful as she went to his office and requested entrance from his assistant. It would simply look to those outside as if she were making the rounds of the Councilors to update them. To her relief, he agreed to see her.

Sparatus sat behind his desk with stacks of datapads in front of him. He was clearly busy and she felt vaguely guilty for disturbing him but he folded his hands and said in a level tone, "Commander Shepard. This is unexpected and unprecedented."

She rubbed the spot between her eyes where a headache was beginning to develop and said, "Councilor, I didn't mean to disturb you. I'll be honest, I just want to be somewhere quiet where no one can find me and ask me to track someone down or take care of a problem or find something for them or badger me for an interview for a few hours."

He cocked his head and said, "So you came here." It was a statement rather than a question.

She explained, "People can't get to the Councilors' offices without permission. Peace and quiet aren't in Udina's vocabulary. Tevos always needs something. Valern is still pissed at me for agreeing to Wrex' demands and freeing the krogan female from Sur'Kesh to do it. So, yes, I came here because if I didn't I was going to punch Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani in the throat."

Sparatus gestured to the couch near his desk and she sat gratefully. He said curiously, "Do humans lack protocols for relieving pressure?"

She nodded and leaned her head back against the couch. "No sparring or fraternization on board human vessels, I'm afraid."

"So what do you do?" he asked curiously. He had never seen Shepard as anything less than completely confident and competent if prone to making wild accusations. Wild accusations that, as it turned out, were all completely true.

"We're supposed to talk about our problems," she said with a slight sneer. "As if that would help now. If they haven't been there, they won't get it. If they get it, they already know and there's no need to talk about it. What am I supposed to say? That I don't know if I can do this? That I'm expected to cure the damn genophage in order to get the krogan to help your people and I don't know if it'll work? That I'm tired of watching people die and yet I know the losses from this war are only beginning? That I close my eyes and hear people on Earth screaming in the streets as centuries-old cities are turned to rubble in seconds and see Palaven burning while Reapers march across Menae and watch rachni that _I_ made the call to free almost kill the krogan I view as a son only days after watching the Primarch's son die on Tuchanka because you and your people didn't bother to tell anyone they'd planted a giant fucking _bomb_ on their planet and Cerberus of all people figured it out? That I'm apparently the only person in this entire godforsaken galaxy who can bring people together to fight and I'm failing? Who fucking understands that?"

Tension radiated off of her and he noticed that her clothing fit slightly wrong as if she'd recently lost weight and the uniform was now too large. Her face was paler and the skin tighter than normal and she had shadows like bruises below her eyes. Her normally full lips were set in a thin line and her body all but vibrated the air around it. Even in desperation and exhaustion, Commander Shepard radiated power. She bore the responsibility of the galaxy on shoulders that seemed impossibly small and yet this was the first time he'd ever heard her complain about the burden. 

Even now she wasn't truly complaining. She was simply stating the fact that she had seen and done things that the average person could not begin to comprehend and she had no method of finding relief. She'd turned to him not because either one of them were particularly fond of the other but because she understood that he, being a turian, would understand the need for solitude. Turians were social and clannish creatures but many of them needed time alone as well to counter the constant demand of their communal society. He doubted she was able to find that even on her ship. He started to say something else but saw that her eyes had closed. He decided to grant her that quiet and turned back to his work. 

It was pleasant, he realized, having her here like this. He wasn't sure if she slept or simply rested and he found his attention drifting toward her when her breathing changed. She was asleep. He knew that, as a soldier, she would not have been able to do that had she not felt safe with him despite their differences and was surprisingly humbled. The woman tasked with saving the galaxy was sleeping in his office. Her breath hitched and she made a soft sound of distress as her chest heaved and he wondered if she were caught in a nightmare. He didn't know if humans could register turians' non-verbal communications but he made a comforting sound anyway and was relieved when she stilled and sighed. 

He remembered the humans' entrance onto the galactic stage. He'd been young and in the military at the time and had fought in the Relay 314 Incident. He would be the first to admit that humans were not his favorite species and that he never would have believed that it would be one of them who turned out to be their salvation. Shepard, however, was different. She was forceful in her demands without being entitled. She was brilliant, dedicated, honorable, and one of the most courageous people he'd ever met. One descriptor he'd never before applied to her, however, was vulnerable. Yet that was precisely how she appeared to him now and he felt an odd sense of protectiveness toward her. 

He sent word to his assistant to hold his calls and reschedule his appointments for the day after checking the _Normandy_ 's docking schedule and ensuring that she wasn't set to depart again. They were docked for two cycles and he was familiar enough with her activities on the Citadel to know that she would not have stopped if she'd had more that she had to do and yet if she left here she would not stop working until the ship was due to head back out into the field. Shepard didn't take shore leaves. He didn't know when the last time she was able to truly rest was. 

Well, she would rest now. He would see that she was undisturbed for the next cycle and that she had at least one decent meal. Someone needed to be responsible for the woman responsible for the rest of them and she wouldn't allow that from anyone she felt the need to protect. She had few superiors in her professional life anymore and even those who had once been such were looking to her for answers and salvation. She had no one in her personal life to ensure her well-being. That offended his turian sensibilities as no one was meant to be autonomous. He knew that she viewed Vakarian as close to an equal but, as one of her crew, she would only lean so far on him as she felt herself responsible for him.

Sparatus had never found himself drawn to a human before her but, as he'd noted, she was different. His disdain for her had slowly morphed into respect and then into something he'd refused to identify. His marriage had been political in nature but he'd appreciated his wife and cared for his mistress. He would not shame either of them by admitting even to himself a...pull...toward a human. However, neither of them had made it off of Palaven as they'd both been in Cipitrine when the Reapers had attacked and he'd been forced to accept their loss. He no longer had to worry about them. He'd had to work through the grief for them swiftly in order to rally for his people and relief was all that was left. The danger to them was over. They no longer had to fear the Reapers and could no longer be shamed by his growing fascination with this female. Abandoning his work for a moment, he sat back in his chair and watched her sleep.

Shepard woke with a start in unfamiliar surroundings. Her hand went automatically to her hip in search of her sidearm and encountered fabric in place of armor. The turian at the desk in front of her brought her into focus and she recalled seeking the unlikely haven of his office and unloading on him before apparently crashing out on his couch. She felt ashamed of her weakness and rose quickly with the intent to leave. He looked up and pressed a button on his desk before gesturing to her to resume her seat. She complied and his assistant came into the office with a trolley. The scents that filled the room made her stomach growl and she swore she saw humor in the councilor's eyes.

He said, "I took the liberty of ordering a meal for when you woke. I was unsure of how long it had been since you'd had the opportunity to eat without interruption."

"I don't remember," she admitted. Most of her meals lately had been eaten on the run or consisted of nutrigel pouches swallowed between waves of enemies in the field. She hadn't eaten sitting down in...probably since her last day in Vancouver. There simply wasn't time even on travel days. She had a crew to bolster, mission reports to write, assignments to fulfill, resources to mine, items to search for, messages to read and reply to, planning to do, dignitaries to appease, and more. Her poor pets were alive only because EDI remembered to restock the VI for the fish and resupply the hamster's food and water when Shepard didn't make it up to her cabin for days.

Her gratitude to Sparatus was genuine, especially when she lifted the silver lid to the tray to find an array of her favorite foods. She looked at him and he said, "I had my assistant contact the human food vendors and gather a list of your most common orders as neither of us is familiar with your cuisine."

"That was...very thoughtful of you," she said, cringing at the surprise in her tone.

"I have my moments," he said mildly. They ate in companionable silence and, when the assistant returned and cleared their dishes, he turned to her and asked, "Do you have any pressing duties this evening?"

She answered, "I need to check on the progress of the ship's resupply, attempt to broker a trade with a turian in the refugee camp, make sure none of my crew has gotten into trouble, and I'm sure that I'll be stopped at least a dozen times on every floor with requests for assistance of one kind or another."

He said, "You can do most of that via omni-tool and if the trade were urgent you would have taken care of it prior to coming here. Take a cycle off, Shepard. No work, no errands, just rest. That is an order. What follows is a request: allow me to take you out."

She looked at him in shock. "You want to take me out? Like on a date?"

"Precisely," he said.

"Why?" she blurted. She knew their relationship had become less strained since the war had begun but this was completely unexpected.

He answered, "You need to relax. I can ensure that you are able to do so without interruption. As you have said yourself, you've seen horrors and ugliness and things that have made seasoned turian generals quiver in fear. If you allow yourself to live with nothing but that it will come to define you and you will lose sight of that for which you are fighting. You will become disconnected from the good things which the galaxy has to offer. I appreciate the company of someone who wants nothing more than that from me. You will not accept out of a desire for my power or position or personal gain."

"I don't know," she said. "I could really use a friendly voice on the Council."

He said, "You are intelligent enough to know that neither accepting nor refusing will affect our professional relationship in any way."

"What do you have in mind?" she asked. Wasn't this exactly what she'd been thinking earlier that she needed? Sparatus wouldn't bow to her. He didn't need her to sugar coat or tell him comforting lies or pretend that everything was going wonderfully and that she was certain of their victory. She could let go with him as evidenced by the fact that she'd fallen asleep almost mid-rant. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept in front of anyone who wasn't crew and, even then, it was a few moments while leaned up against a wall or with her head against Garrus' or occasionally Liara's shoulder in the shuttle on the way to or from a mission. Those instances didn't truly count as she was generally at least somewhat aware of her surroundings. 

This had been different. Her body had completely shut down. She vaguely remembered the beginnings of a dream and then being wrapped in a feeling of safety and comfort before utter oblivion had claimed her. She didn't think she'd ever done that in anyone's presence but Nihlus and that had been before Saren and the geth, before his death and her own, before the Collectors and the Reapers, back when she'd thought the galaxy itself was all that was there and that she knew all of the dangers and evils it held.

"Do you like music?" he asked.

"I do," she said. She hadn't served on a ship with Garrus for almost two solid years without becoming familiar with turian music. She probably knew "Die for the Cause" as well as she did her own people's international anthem and he'd introduced her to other examples as well. Their music was simultaneously primal and orderly, wild and restrained, and she'd come to appreciate the dichotomy.

"Good," he said. "I have a reservation this evening. I will have my assistant procure another ticket."


	2. Chapter 2

Kasumi was still on the Citadel, so she agreed to find a dress for Shepard for the evening. The thief had done well with the one she'd chosen for the mission to Hock's estate and she knew Shepard's style. She returned to the ship to shower and Kasumi found her in her cabin and insisted on assisting her with her hair. Rather than the military bun she typically wore, her friend arranged it in loose, flowing curls that tumbled over her shoulders. She skillfully applied just enough makeup to accentuate her features without making her look garish. Then she presented the dress. 

"Before you say anything, I picked this with you in mind, Shep. It looks like a regular formal asari dress, but it will conceal a leg holster for your pistol, allow free range of movement, and is different enough from your normal style that combined with the hair and makeup, is as good as a disguise. It also shows just the slightest hint of bare waist, which should drive your turian companion wild." Her eyes sparkled on the last statement and Shepard shook her head.

"It's not like that," she insisted. "We're colleagues."

"That doesn't mean it won't make you feel good to have the councilor drooling over you...or whatever turians do," Kasumi responded saucily.

"I really wish you'd come with us," Shepard said. She'd missed her friend.

"I love you, too, Shep. Now, go, have fun."

"Fun? What's that?" she asked.

Kasumi, as it turned out, was right about Sparatus' reaction. His mandibles flared when she stepped out of the skycar and it wasn't the length of leg that slipped through the slit in the side of the dress which caught his eye. Turians did have a thing for waists, it seemed. He looked just as fascinated by her hair. She'd never imagined the turian councilor of all people looking at her like she'd just stepped straight out of his fantasies, but Kasumi was also right about the confidence boost it gave her. 

The music hall was as crowded as ever. As Joker had repeatedly pointed out, the populace of the Citadel didn't yet seem to realize there was a war on. She'd expected more turians, though, and far less humans as most didn't care for turian music. Instead, he was the one in the minority and she saw asari and a few salarians we well. It must not be a turian performer, then. They were waved to the front and escorted to a raised box with luxuriously padded seats by a deferential asari. 

She blinked in surprise at the sight of the orchestra below. There were asari with some of their traditional instruments and a few turians as well, but the majority were human. She raised an eyebrow at him and said, "I'd expected you to be a traditionalist, but I hadn't expected human traditional."

He said, "Your older music is one of the few cultural marvels your species possesses, unlike the noise that makes up what passes for popular music among most species now."

She couldn't disagree with him. Most of what was played now was electronically produced and just sound clashing together in a semblance of a beat. She looked down at the string section and saw that most of the instruments were holographic, but that one held a real cello. "I play the violin," she admitted. "A real one made from wood. It was a family heirloom and the only thing I have left of my parents." 

Liara had detoured to her cabin to grab the case when Shepard had gone after Joker before the first _Normandy_ had gone down and had returned it to her along with her dog tags when she'd come back. It had been the only possession she'd truly regretted losing and she'd been thrilled to find that it had been saved, though she was slightly perturbed that Liara had taken the time to go after it when the ship was breaking apart around them.

"You never cease to surprise me, Shepard," he said. "I would like to hear you play."

"I keep it on the ship," she told him. "I'll bring it the next time I'm on shore leave if you'd like."

"Are you as proficient with the instrument as you are with your weapons and words?" he asked.

"Of course," she said. "I can't dance to save my life, but I can play. I wouldn't waste my time on it if I weren't good at it." That was another thing she hadn't had time for lately and, as she listened to the orchestra begin, she resolved to make time for it. Sparatus was right. She needed to do something to care for herself.

She closed her eyes and allowed the music to flow over her in the darkened theater. As it always did, the familiar sounds chased away her tension and provided a stream along which her emotions could flow. The music wept her sadness and screamed her rage. It whispered her hope and sang of her joys. It soothed the chaos in her heart and put it into order. Visual art did nothing for her. She couldn't appreciate it. Vids were educational or momentary entertainment. Theater was the same. Music, however, spoke to her soul. 

She allowed herself to get lost in it, and when Sparatus took her hand in his own, she welcomed the contact. For a moment in time, she was just a woman and he was just a man and there was just the two of them in a darkened room with the sound of emotion swirling up and embracing them. The vast chasm of difference between herself and the others around her narrowed until she was one of them. The soft brush of his thumb over her knuckles sent tracers up her arm.

Sparatus was more involved in watching her enjoyment than in listening to the music itself. He could see that not only did she appreciate it, she understood it in a way that suggested intimate familiarity. He could sense her anticipation prior to a shift in tone or voice of each piece and it told him that even with the songs she did not know, she comprehended the style and knew where the message would go. It implied an intuitiveness to her that he should have anticipated. 

He wondered that more turians did not appreciate this kind of music as the instruments, especially the stringed ones with their multiple simultaneous tones, communicated in a manner similar to their non-verbal communications. Ideas, concepts, and emotions flowed from them and made them richer even than what could be physically gathered from the humans who created the sounds. Or so he'd thought. Shepard was making him think differently.

She seemed reluctant to leave when the program ended and so he suggested that she accompany him to his apartment. To his surprise, she agreed. She surprised him even further by directing the skycar to the docking bay and going to the ship. She emerged a few minutes later with a locked metal case. His assumption that it held her own instrument was proven correct when they arrived at his home. He gave her a brief tour and poured her a glass of amino-neutral Thessian wine he'd ordered for just such an occasion. She accepted the glass before opening the case and explaining to him that it had been specially designed to withstand almost any eventuality. 

"Harbinger might be able to destroy both my ship and me but it won't get my violin," she said with a grin.

He'd never seen one outside of images before and she allowed him to run his fingers over the silken wood. He was careful to keep his talons sheathed as he did so in order to avoid scratching the delicate instrument. She explained the parts of it to him and how it worked and showed him the way she rosined the bow before fitting it to her shoulder under her chin. He'd seen vids of her in firefights and had admired the way that her rifle seemed to be an extension of herself and he saw that same intimacy now. She handled it like a lover whose intricacies and individualisms were thoroughly mapped in her psyche. 

The orchestra was beautiful. The sound of the lone violin was haunting. It was like being privy to a conversation that only a turian could understand, and more than her words alone earlier, expressed her emotional turmoil. The songs she played were achingly sad, furiously desperate, steadfastly determined, and in the end, brightly hopeful. He was entranced, spellbound, lost in her as she opened this window into her soul and he saw into the depths of her. She was not simply a hero or a legend. She was a force unto herself and a treasure to be cherished unlike any other in the galaxy. 

He was struck by the force of his emotions as they were unlike any other he'd experienced. His wife had been his partner in creating their family and in his rise to power. They had not loved each other, but they had been friends and equals. His mistress had claimed him though he'd resisted because she was singularly inappropriate, a barefaced colonist from one of their outlying colonies chance met during a rare visit offworld to Palaven. It had been she who'd set her sights on him and pursued him not because of his wealth or family or power, but because she'd taken a single look and seen something in him that made her decide that her own lack of status would not keep her from him.

Never before had he had the desire to claim someone. The idea of doing so with a human, even this one, was preposterous. Humans were fickle and their emotions shifted as quickly and unpredictably as the weather on Palaven. They didn't understand hierarchy as a turian did. A claim to one would not last. This one was especially unsuited as she knew nothing but dominance and he doubted that she was possessed of even the slightest submissiveness in nature. She would likely see it as weakness when it was anything but. 

Or would she? he wondered. She was military. She was accustomed to leading, yes, but she also understood rank and order. She might fight with the Council and buck Udina every step of the way when he disagreed with her, but he'd never received a report of her showing insubordination or anything less than the utmost respect, loyalty, and devotion to Admirals Anderson and Hackett even when the latter's orders had landed her in an Alliance holding facility waiting for tribunal for half a year. That didn't mean that she would do the same in her personal life. 

She drew the bow across the strings a final time and laid the instrument in the case almost reverently. He said, "That was one of the most _true_ things I have heard in my life."

"It's the wood," she said. "Holographic instruments don't provide the richness of tone that the real thing can produce."

"The right instrument in the hands of a master can be a beautiful thing," he said, unsure if he meant the violin or herself or both.

___

 

"I should go," she said some time later. They'd finished the wine and had spent hours in conversation learning about each other. He'd told her about his family and explained the rumors around his mistress. She'd empathized with him when he'd admitted that both of his partners had been killed on the day the Reapers had come to Palaven. He'd seemed surprised that she'd accepted the information about his marriage and outside relationship until she told him that marriage for name or land or titles had been common in her people's history at one point and that in those times, monogamy had not been expected of the spouses. She'd expressed that in that case, she felt that the spirit of the marriage was different than in one formed for love.

He was not taken aback by her forthrightness when she said, "Given that this is a date, I suppose that does lead to the question of whether you would be expected to do it again. I won't judge you for finding love outside of your arranged marriage, but I have no intention of being a mistress to anyone. I don't know that long-term anything is even in the cards for me, but I'm not what you'd call the sharing type."

He laughed at that. "No, I don't suppose you would be. The great Commander Shepard would not settle for anything less than pride of place. In answer to your question, no. I have fulfilled my duty to my clan. It is time for the younger generation to take on that role."

"Speaking of your clan, your markings are very similar to Nihlus'," she said. "Are you related?" 

"His father was from my colony," he said, "so it's likely that there was some distant relation there but nothing close."

She was relieved by that information. She didn't think she would be willing to pursue anything with a close relative of his. She and Nihlus hadn't gotten beyond the initial stages of a relationship and she hadn't been in love with him, but they'd been friends and she'd cared about him. The possibility had been discussed, but then Saren had cut his life short with a bullet in the back. She'd avenged him, but it had been bittersweet.

Now, though, it was growing late and she didn't wish to overstay her welcome. A part of her wanted to stay. She was seeing a side of the councilor she'd never anticipated and had discovered she actually liked him. He was somewhat rigid and uptight, but he had a subtle sense of humor and he was a brilliant conversationalist. He spoke openly, listened well, and asked questions that made her feel as if he genuinely cared about the answers. She had to admit that she was drawn to the aura of power around him, and when it wasn't directed derisively at her, she even liked his arrogance. However, as much as she might like the idea of a roll in the hay, she reminded herself that he was someone with whom she had to work and that their cooperation could save or doom the galaxy. A few hours of physical relief weren't worth the risk.

He said, "I would like to see you again before you return to the field. Would you join me for lunch tomorrow?" 

"I would like that," she said with a smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Shepard was asleep in his office for the second time in two days. The position she was in now, however, was vastly different from the day before. She'd come for lunch as they'd planned and they had taken their meal together. He had once again requested that visitors be denied and calls held, but other Councilors expected his availability at all times, especially the human one. 

Unfortunately, her presence in his office couldn't be easily explained as she had no reason to come to him and they both knew that Udina would view it as a slight. Turning the other councilor away would have the same result. There was no way for her to leave without the human seeing her and a rift within the Council or between humanity and Shepard at this stage could upset the very delicate balance between the species and leave her with only Sparatus' support when he could give it, which they also knew would not always happen.

Rather than risk that or try to explain the nature of their shifting relationship when they themselves were still unsure of it, she'd slid under his desk. He'd made a joke about Commander Shepard facing down Reapers and thresher maws without fear, but hiding from a lone human and she'd told him about the time that Anderson had punched Udina in order to allow her to steal the Normandy to get to Ilos. He knew the ship had been locked down, but hadn't heard the story about how she'd managed to get it out. That explained the tense relationship between herself and the man. He would certainly view her presence as evidence that she was going behind his back.

Now, Udina was in his office and he could barely focus on what the man was saying. His mind was occupied first by the image of the commander at his feet and then by the sensation of her soft body leaning into his leg as her head came to rest against his knee. She'd shifted a moment ago and her head was laying against his thigh. It was putting thoughts both tender and lascivious into his head. He tried to focus on the former and be glad that it meant she was comfortable with him, but the position was sending instinctive messages to his brain and those were what caused his attention to fray.

In turian culture, kneeling or sitting at a dominant partner's feet was an unspoken gesture of submission and request for protection. It didn't matter if the subordinate partner was fully capable of defending and protecting him or herself. It was a sign to him that she felt threatened and was entrusting him with the task of keeping her safe. The thought of Udina being a legitimate threat to her person was laughable, but it didn't stop him from having to control his tone lest he give away that he was currently feeling defensive toward the other man simply because she was silently telling him he was a threat. Perhaps she should have done this long ago when trying to warn of the Reapers, he thought with an acute sense of irony. He certainly listened to this warning well enough.

He sped the discussion along, grateful that Shepard didn't make the disgusting noises in her sleep that some of her species were known to do and that she wasn't currently having nightmares. The human councilor left none the wiser to her presence. Now, he simply had to decide what to do with her. The position she was in couldn't be comfortable for her, but he reminded himself that she was a soldier and likely slept in precarious positions on a regular basis. If he moved her, she would wake and he didn't know when she would be able to get uninterrupted sleep again. He returned to his work with a sigh that mixed contentment and frustration.

She stirred sometime later and his hand darted down to cover her head so that she didn't hit it on the desk. He had never before touched a human's hair and had never felt the desire to do so, but he was pleasantly surprised by its silkiness as it slid through his fingers. He froze in shock as he felt her nuzzle the side of his thigh and his fingers clenched in her hair. Spirits, the research he'd done after she'd left last night had the most inappropriate thoughts running through his mind right now as he pictured the things that humans were able to do with that mouth of theirs. 

She seemed to read his thoughts because her hands slid up his legs and pushed his chair back. When he looked down, she was kneeling between them and looking up at him as her thumbs traced circles on the insides of his thighs. He wanted to push her over the desk and take her right there and damn the consequences. She heard his rumble of desire and her eyes widened slightly before her lips quirked and her hands continued their exploration. Deft fingers found the catch to his slacks and she unfastened it without taking her eyes from his. He forced himself into a position of nonchalance, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest as she was wont to do as he looked down at her with veiled interest. 

She took the challenge for what it was and drew down the turian equivalent of a zipper with an ease that told him she was familiar with their clothing. He wondered if the rumors about her and Vakarian were true, but dismissed the thought. Shepard was nothing if not loyal and Vakarian didn't strike him as the type to hide his involvement with her due to others' opinions or possible scandal. Neither of them gave a damn what anyone thought of them. 

His breath caught when her hand dipped into his slacks and closed around him. There were more fingers than he was used to and her hand was cooler than a turian's but her tongue was soft and hot against his shaft. Her lack of hesitation told him she'd been with someone of his species and he didn't know whether to be envious or grateful. At least she knew she wasn't allergic. Then her mouth closed over him and he didn't think at all. 

Shepard didn't know what had come over her. She'd climbed under the desk to avoid complications with Udina and the combination of the darkened, enclosed space that spelled safety to her in the same way it did to Jack. Udina's droning voice mixing with Sparatus' soothing rumble had relaxed her. She'd been amused at hearing Sparatus' scorn turned on someone else for once and someone she despised at that, but she must be more exhausted than she realized because the next thing she knew, she was waking up with her head pillowed against a warm leg and his hand was in her hair. With a human, the gesture of a hand placed on the head of a kneeling woman generally meant one thing and the idea had intrigued her. 

Experimentally, she'd placed her hands on his legs and pushed, giving him the option of either getting out of her way or responding and she'd seen the desire glittering in his eyes before his expression had changed almost to a dare. Never one to back down from a challenge, she'd forgotten her reservations about their professional relationship. The slight jerk of his hips when she'd tasted him had told her he wasn't as unaffected as he was letting on, so she'd taken him fully. His head was leaned back against his chair and his breathing was uneven. His hands flexed in her hair and she felt her own desire rise as she heard the rumble in his chest increase.

With a growl, he pulled her off of her knees and spun her so that she was facing the desk in front of him. He stood and she felt his body bend over hers. His teeth scraped the side of her neck as he stretched her hands above her head and placed them flat on the surface. She shivered and her hips rolled against his. He nipped at her shoulder and she groaned. "Quiet," he ordered and nipped again. 

He wasn't familiar with human clothing but he was intelligent and figured it out quickly enough. She felt him draw her pants down her legs and a rush of excitement warmed her blood. She knew that his assistant would keep anyone from coming in, but the knowledge that there was someone right outside the door was heady. She turned her head to look at Sparatus and saw him crouched behind her. He'd rocked back on his heels and was simply looking at her. She felt a flash of uncertainty as she was fairly sure he'd never been with a human before and she didn't know if he would even find her attractive. Then his finger trailed down the center of her and her forehead came to rest on the desk with a thud as she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"Don't move," he said and she felt his tongue replace his finger. She gasped and her hips bucked. He stopped and she could all but see his brow plate raise in admonishment. She froze. He chuckled and resumed his exploration of her. When his tongue rasped against her clit, she dug her fingers into the unyielding surface of the desk and when it slid into her she couldn't hold back her mewl of pleasure. His hand connected with her ass and his tongue withdrew as he hissed, "I said, quiet."

She wasn't sure what she thought of someone, especially him, having the audacity to slap her ass but her body didn't seem to take issue with it. After all, wasn't this exactly what she'd wanted? Here was the opportunity to let someone else take the reins for a while. She did her best to comply with him as he licked her. His hands roamed her skin and she spared a moment to hope that the faint lines that still adorned her body in some places from her reconstruction didn't bother him. Then, his finger was pushing into her and his tongue was lapping at her and every bit of her rapidly fraying control went into keeping her body still and biting back the sharp cries that threatened to spill from her lips. 

He took her to the edge and then stopped. She couldn't help the growl of frustration and his hand met her ass again. "You will finish when I say and not before," he told her as he pressed against her. Her hips rolled and she felt the head of him slide into her. He gripped her punishingly. She felt the tips of his talons against her skin just shy of piercing it. She held herself still, but bit down hard on her bicep to keep from crying out when he pushed into her. He was bigger than Nihlus, bigger even than the Primarch, and the welcome intrusion was just shy of painful. 

He withdrew slowly before slamming into her again. Her back arched and one of his hands released her hip to fist in her hair. Held still, pinned between himself and the desk, she could do nothing but experience the onslaught of sensation. She forgot the assistant outside of the door. She forgot Grunt and Kaidan and Thane at the hospital and the planets burning and the Reapers harvesting. She forgot that all of it had fallen to her and that she didn't know if she was capable of doing what was expected of her in order to save them. In this moment, there was nothing but the desk and her body and the turian behind her with whom she'd been at odds for so long but now held her utterly in control. 

He picked up his pace and quickly had her gasping for air and fighting her own movements as he buried himself in her. She felt her insides tighten and her fingers scrabbled for purchase on the smooth surface of the desk. His talons dug into her skin and she felt his sharp teeth graze against her before closing over the back of her neck. He didn't break skin, but he held her there just on the brink and she heard herself whisper, "Please!" 

She was so close, too close. If he wanted her to wait for his say so, then he was going to have to hurry because she couldn't hold back, couldn't stop. She was falling, falling, and then he hissed "Yes," against her skin and she flew.

Sparatus pounded his own release into her and it was all he could do not to bite down, to mark her, to claim her as his own. He felt her go boneless beneath him. His arms caught her and drew her against him. Her fingers entwined with his. It shouldn't have fit, but it did. Her head rolled back to rest against his collar and she sighed. He was both charmed and amused by the sleepy smile she wore as she turned her head to nuzzle against him. He hadn't imagined Commander Shepard as capable of softness. He had honestly been amazed at the ease of her surrender. So many things between them had been a fight that he'd been expecting at least some resistance when he'd taken control. She apparently was intelligent enough and intuitive enough to recognize that she needed this release. He was impressed by her self-awareness.

The sex itself had been unlike anything he'd ever encountered. She was entirely different from a turian woman. He'd been with an asari once and the physiology was similar, but the experience had been vastly different. The asari had been more focused on attempting to meld her mind with his and that was something he could not allow in a casual encounter. This, with Shepard, had been pure bliss. He wondered if all humans were so responsive and soft and sweet and hot or if it was just her. He didn't care to find out. The woman in his arms was enough.

When she shifted, he loosened his hold and allowed her to turn to face him. Her arms slipped around his waist and he was surprised again. Turian women viewed sex as a release with a very set beginning and end. Even with a regular lover, they were not affectionate after. They finished and it was over. Holding a woman after was foreign to him, but she seemed to need it, so he nuzzled her hair and felt her lips press against the plates on his chest. She hadn't yet looked at him and he wondered if she felt ashamed. 

There was a definite sense of vulnerability from her that he hadn't imagined she would experience, but from what he'd read, humans were strange in their reactions to sex. If she needed reassurance, he would do his best to provide it. She made a humming sound as his hands trailed over her spine and her arms tightened around him. Finally, she glanced up at him. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She rose on tiptoe and pressed her lips against his. It startled him, but he'd seen humans and a few other races kiss, so he recognized the gesture and returned it as well as he could.

She drew back and straightened her clothing with a surprising amount of dignity. She said, "Well, that's, uh, a good way to end shore leave."

"Is that all you want, Shepard?" he asked. He found himself wanting more, but couldn't judge her reaction. Her walls were firmly back in place and he was now on uncertain ground. There would be no question with a turian woman. He didn't know what this human wanted.

He was so different from the other turians she'd known. He had the self-assurance that Garrus lacked, none of Nihlus' lightheartedness, and all of Saren's arrogance without his cowardice. They'd only just become less than foes and she was sure that they would butt heads again many times in the future. Yet, he seemed to be asking her if she wanted more. She regarded him thoughtfully and said, "I don't know what this war will bring. Hell, most days I don't know what the next mission will bring. But...if you would like to see where this goes then I'm willing. I just can't make any promises."

"I'm aware that we are at war, Shepard," he said, gesturing to the datapads they'd scattered across the desk. "I understand the implications and do not need to be coddled."

"In that case," she said, "I'm interested."

She thought he smiled when he said, "Good. I suggest that you do some research on our customs if you have not already. There are things upon which we can compromise or times when human custom may serve better, but there are also biological and instinctive elements of turian mating practices that are beyond conscious control of which you should be aware. I wish to be certain you are a willing and informed participant. In addition, I realize that you recognize this and would not handle it any other way, but I feel it needs to be said that our personal and professional relationships must remain separate. Anything I ask of you personally, I ask as myself and not as one of the Councilors to whom you answer professionally." 

She wasn't sure exactly what he meant about their practices, but she had two turians aboard her ship and while she couldn't exactly ask the Primarch about it, she could talk to Garrus about anything. He might get a little uncomfortable, but that wouldn't stop him from making sure she knew everything she needed to in order to avoid pitfalls. Her free time was limited, especially with the dignitaries on board, but she always made time for people she cared about. She told him she understood and placed another kiss on his stiff lips before leaving to return to her ship. She'd finished her errands this morning and had somehow avoided being pulled into more, so they would be returning to Tuchanka.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story started out as PWP and then Sparatus got his own ideas, so now it's an actual story.


	4. Chapter 4

Sparatus looked up from his desk as his assistant rushed into his office. Helix’ subvocals were strained and bordering on panic. “Sir, one of the human Spectres is outside. The Citadel is under attack.”

“Shepard is here?” he asked, pushing back from his desk and rising to his feet. If Shepard thought that there was a danger worth evacuating the Council, then he would follow. He’d expected the Reapers’ arrival to be more…loud, though.

“Not Commander Shepard, sir,” Helix said. “The other one. The new one. Councilors Tevos and Udina are with him. He said Cerberus is attacking the station.”

“All right,” he said, taking his pistol from the drawer and sliding it into his waistband. He cursed the lack of armor or a proper place to put his weapon. It wasn’t much, but after the Battle of the Citadel, he no longer went about unarmed. 

He met the other councilors in the hallway. Tevos looked frightened while Udina appeared far too confident for a man who represented the race of the attackers. Sparatus would have expected him to be blustering and attempting to find a way to spin this event to his favor. Instead, he simply looked impatient. Always the skeptic, Sparatus looked from the human councilor to the human Spectre and back. Something wasn’t right here, but damned if he knew what it was. He caught Tevos’ eye. Years of working with her had granted them their own version of Shepard and Vakarian’s apparent telepathy. She liked the situation no better than he did, but without further information, there was nothing they could do but allow the Spectre to escort them to the shuttle that waited at the Consular docks to remove them to the _Destiny Ascension_. He consoled himself with the fact that while they were politicians who’d spent years behind a desk, Tevos was still a biotic and he had been a general before becoming Councilor. They were not utterly helpless.

The human Spectre—Sparatus couldn’t remember his name, but knew that he had been one of Shepard’s companions during the hunt for Saren—led them to the elevators. Sparatus stepped back to allow himself room to maneuver should the humans turn and saw a faint flicker of biotic blue pass over Tevos’ hands. He wished it was Shepard rather than this new human with them. 

Alenko, he remembered, had been personally recruited by Udina, who’d used the war as an excuse to bypass normal protocols and instate him without evaluation or training by another Spectre. Udina had claimed that the man’s service under Shepard meant that he was more qualified than most as she’d been a Spectre and his superior at the time. With their agents spread thin and dying by the day, the others had not been able to formulate a reasonable argument against him. Now, he and Tevos were trapped in an enclosed space with Udina and his pet.

Sparatus’ omni-tool pinged quietly and he looked down to see a message from Shepard. _Don’t trust Udina. He’s working with Cerberus. Valern is safe. There’s an assassin in one of the other elevator cars. Biotic with a sword. More dangerous than he looks. Do not engage. Bailey is trying to slow him down. I’m on my way._ He nudged Tevos and she scanned the message from the corner of her eye before giving him a subtle nod. 

A thud on the ceiling of the elevator made her jump. Sparatus reached for his pistol as Alenko fired rounds up at the presumed assassin. Udina slammed his fist into the control panel, stopping the car, and Sparatus herded Tevos from the lift into the hallway leading to the Consular dock. The shuttle would be waiting, and with it, C-Sec. Of course, there was no guarantee that even C-Sec was safe now that a human was in charge. Sparatus still doubted the claims of Pallin’s duplicity, but there was no proof to back his suspicion that the former executor had been the victim of a human-led coup of Citadel Security. He reminded himself that Shepard seemed to trust Commander Bailey. She would have warned him if she thought the man couldn’t be trusted. 

He and Tevos skidded to a stop when they saw the burning shuttle. He cast a glance back at the hallway as the Spectre ordered them back to the elevator. Shepard, Vakarian, and the asari ran through the doorway with their guns drawn. The asari sealed the door behind her. Sparatus breathed a sigh of relief and then snorted at Udina’s immediate assertion that Shepard was blocking their escape because she was working with Cerberus. There was a time when Sparatus might have believed that, but he had learned the hard way to trust Shepard. No, she truly believed that there was someone behind her that intended to kill all of them and she had put herself between them and the threat.

Alenko looked torn. Sparatus recognized the tension in the human. He was being forced into a position quite literally between two people he didn’t know he could trust. That he kept his back to Udina and his gun trained on Shepard told Sparatus everything he needed to know about the man’s loyalties. A single wrong move and he would fire on Shepard. He likely wouldn’t kill her before Vakarian took him down, but there was never a guarantee when it came to a shot in the head at close range. Sparatus wanted to rip Alenko’s throat out, but forced himself to stay still and quiet. Shepard knew the man and she was the best military leader he’d ever seen. She recognized the precipice they were on and would be the one best suited to talking him down. 

It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t going to be enough. Alenko’s finger was tightening on the trigger. Sparatus stepped forward to claim his attention and said, “Doubting Commander Shepard has never proven to be the correct course of action in the past. It is not a mistake we will repeat now. Stand down, Spectre.”

Everything happened quickly after that. Udina strode to the console and began to override the door. Tevos attempted to stop him and was shoved to the ground. Alenko shouted a warning about a gun, and before Sparatus could draw his own weapon, a shot rang out. Udina collapsed with a neat hole in his chest. He looked over to see Shepard raising her gun and behind her, sparks flying from the door as someone on the other side attempted to get through. “The door!” he warned her. 

She turned and placed herself between it and him. He would have been amused at her protection had he the benefit of armor or a weapon stronger than a pistol. As it was, she was the better suited in this instance to face the threat. That did not mean he liked it. This was the second time she’d saved his life when he had done nothing but send her into danger to risk her own. He owed her more than he would ever be able to repay. Losing the Council at this stage would be a devastating blow to the war effort. The odd thing was that the Illusive Man had to know this. He contemplated that while she spoke with Commander Bailey, who explained that the Cerberus troops had run into the keeper tunnels when C-Sec had shown up. 

He stepped just close enough to her to be inside of her personal space without calling attention to it as he asked, “Shepard, do you have any idea why the Illusive Man would do this?”

“No. I don’t,” she answered. “But I plan to find out.” 

She would, of that he had no doubt. This close, he could see something in her eyes that mixed in with the relief and anger and frustration. There was sadness there, too, and he said quietly, “Meet me in my office when you can get free.”

She nodded and gestured for her team to follow her as he and Tevos returned to their offices. He pushed aside his worry for her and shifted his thoughts to the multitude of tasks that would need to be done. Security needed to be tightened. Extra medical supplies needed to be requisitioned for the injured. C-Sec would want access to civilians' private security feeds. Repairs must be made. People needed to be reassured in order to prevent panic. Order must be restored. He did not envy Bailey over the coming days. 

It was several hours before Shepard arrived at his office. He was reviewing the preliminary reports when she entered. He could see the tightness in her features from across the room and did not need to touch her to know that she was holding herself together through sheer will alone. Something had happened, something more than just the coup, and it had hit her hard. He hummed a curious note as he walked over to her and placed his hands on her arms. She tensed. When he didn’t release her, she stepped forward and buried her face in his chest as her body shook almost violently. 

He directed her to the couch and she followed without looking up at him. When he felt the wetness against his chest, he realized that she was crying. Commander Shepard was crying in his arms. He felt a momentary flare of panic. He had no idea what to do with any crying woman, but especially not one such as she. He hadn’t thought her capable of it. And then he heard the sound. This wasn’t fear or delayed reaction. This was a sound that he knew was echoing across the Citadel tonight, a soul-deep grief, the kind that only came from the loss of someone dearly loved. Someone she knew had died in the coup.

“I am sorry, Shepard,” he said softly, stroking her hair. 

“I am going to kill that bastard,” she said vehemently. Her vow was not lessened by the thickness of her tears. 

“Alenko?” he asked.

“Kai Leng,” she hissed. “I am going to make him drown in his own blood. I want him to die choking on it, fighting for air, struggling and suffering and terrified as his lungs burn and his screams gurgle in his throat. I am going to watch and when he is in the greatest amount of pain that he can imagine, I am going to bend down and whisper in his ear that Thane Krios sends his regards. I swear on all of the gods that mine will be the last face that dime-store ninja ever sees.”

Vengeance he could understand. “Who is Thane Krios?” he asked.

“A friend,” she said. “A good friend. One of the best I’ve ever had. He saved my life on the Collector base. More than once. He was…an exceptional person.” Sparatus tilted her head back and brushed a thumb across the moisture rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes were deep pools of the sorrow with which they were all too familiar. “Where does it stop?” she asked. “Jenkins, Nihlus, Ash, Pressly and the other nineteen in my crew, Jacob, Mordin, Thane…there are so many already. Too many lost. Too many names on the memorial wall. And there will be more.”

“You will stop it, Shepard,” he said. “There will be more, but you will stop it. Come.” He rose and drew her to her feet. She needed a drink and she needed her space and she needed an outlet for her mourning. She needed the _Normandy_.

“Why are we here?” she asked when they reached the docking bay. 

“You need to reconnect with your spirit,” he said. “Show me your ship, Shepard.” She looked confused, but after a brief conversation with Alenko who was waiting for her in the airlock, she led him on a tour of the vessel. He caught the inquiring looks from her crew, but ignored them. When she took him into the comm room, he said into her ear, “Now I can picture where you stand when we speak.”

Shepard led him up to her cabin and poured two glasses of wine before turning to find him staring at her. He reached for her slowly, drawing her to him. His hand reached back to remove her hair from its tight bun. Her eyes closed at the release of tension and the bliss of his talons moving comfortingly across her scalp to thread through the loose strands. His hand clenched into a careful fist and her lips parted in a soft gasp. He tilted her head, purring softly under his breath, and she could feel it across her lips as he simultaneously drew her onto her toes and lowered his head down. Her lips parted further and she felt his mouth brush hers. His hand tightened in her hair until she groaned, her head tilting back willingly when his mouth teased across her skin. One of his talons strayed down her cheek in a caress that was almost loving.

She trailed her hands up the lean, elegant lines of his narrow waist, drawing a shudder from him. His hands slid around her, framing her waist before rounding the curve of her hips. She could feel his breath quicken and she trembled under his touch. He growled deep in his chest, sharper than she’d heard before, and then he swept her up and carried over to the bed. Turian strength never ceased to amaze her and the ease with which he lifted and carried her was intoxicating. 

He undressed her slowly, hovering over her with his eyes trailing over each new inch of skin revealed, and she realized that this was the first time he’d actually seen her. Lying there in nothing but her dog tags with his predatory form above her, she felt more vulnerable than she had at any point during their previous encounter. A part of her wanted to cover herself, wondering again if he’d be put off by the scars that webbed her body, but she changed her mind and instead traced her fingers over the line of his mandible, watching him respond to her touch as she traced the creamy lines that decorated his face. 

She felt his inhale and noted the twitch of his mandibles as she drew her fingers over the curving pattern on his forehead. He rumbled down at her, a deep sound that started in his chest as he closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, rubbing up against her palm in a way that was almost cat-like. It reminded her a bit of Nihlus and the way he would come up behind her and nuzzle her shoulder once he’d realized that she appreciated physical affection. What she’d had with the Primarch had been far more similar to what she and Sparatus had shared in his office: a quick fuck blowing off steam while she let him forget his grief for a few minutes. 

Without taking his eyes off of her, his mouth trailed down the swell of her breast to graze his teeth gently across her nipple. Her body spasmed and she cried out, arching into his mouth and gripping his shoulders. His mandibles flicked in satisfied amusement and he drew a hand across her belly before gently cupping the opposite breast. His thumb trailed across her nipple as he slid his slightly rough tongue across the one held lightly in his teeth.

"You are so responsive" he murmured. “So easy to please.” His talons danced across her ribcage, making her shiver. He nudged her thighs open with one of his long, lean legs and drew his fingers over her hip and down to trace the seam of her sex. His fingers traced around her, coating themselves in her wetness before dusting across it again and again. 

An arm slipped under her as he moved up her body, tucking his face into the crook between her neck and shoulders before sliding a thick finger into her slick body. Her head fell back as the events of the day fell away and her composure began to unravel. She wrapped an arm around his neck as he started to move his hand. Soon, she was clinging tightly to him as he stroked within her. Her cries rang out against the bulkhead. He drew her tighter to him so he could cover her mouth with his and drink them in. He added a second finger, stretching her with hard, rapid thrusts that had her bucking against him. 

His mouth glided to her ear and she heard him begin to murmur hot, enticing words in that delicious rumbling voice. "Do you have any idea what you do to me, Shepard? So eager, so giving, so beautiful. Spirits, you undo me." His tongue flicked out to touch just below her ear, then drew down in a slow line towards the pulse at her throat. She felt his teeth scrape over it and bit back a moan. "Come for me, Shepard. I want to watch you fall apart." He curled his fingers up hard and pressed into her, drawing a jagged moan from her throat. She shattered, spine arching, body convulsing, bucking into his hand as he whispered words of encouragement.

She fell back, breathing unevenly, the combination of endorphins and the emotions of the day draining the last of what energy she had. He held her close, threading his fingers through her hair and purring deep in his chest. He was saying something to her, but in a dialect her translator didn’t understand and that, too, was comforting. She nuzzled her face into his throat and marveled that Sparatus, of all people, should be the one person to see her cry. Six months ago, she’d have found the idea ludicrous and humiliating. Now, it just felt nice to have somewhere to let go.

When she finally relaxed, he rose from the bed. She let out a sound of protest before realizing what he was doing. She watched as he removed his clothing and slipped in beside her again, his warm, leathery body sliding along hers. He rumbled at her open appreciation and ran his teeth carefully along the ball of her shoulder. She turned to face him, hooking a leg around his waist. He groaned, feral and loud, as a hard tremor ran through him. He growled and rolled her over onto her back, bracing his arms on his elbows as he curled over her, mandibles flicking over her throat. His hips were between her thighs. His pelvis rolled forward, sliding him hot and moist against her. The tip of his erection nudged between her folds and his hands threaded into her hair.

Her hands moved up to cup his mandibles, her thumbs stroking over the pale lines curling gracefully over his hard face. He pressed his face into them and said her name. For once, there was no derision in it, no patronizing disdain that marred it with his clear dislike. The memory of how greatly he’d disliked her made her wonder briefly what finally changed his mind and if it had, indeed, changed or if this was some kind of trick before a shudder radiated through him and he drew her legs up over his hips and pushed into her in one long, slow stroke.

Her head fell back and thought faded. He leaned down and she felt his teeth again at her shoulder, her throat, and then along her jaw before he licked below her ear and began to move. His rhythm was slow at first, teasing and learning her in a way he hadn’t before, but then his hips sped and pushed into her harder and deeper. His grip shifted and he bent her knee between their chests so that he could sit up over her and press his other hand against the bulkhead above her head. The shift in angle brought him deeper than he’d been before. She gripped his hips and he snarled down at her, curving his body over her as he began to drive into her. 

Her thigh drew up and squeezed against his waist and then he was saying her name as his body pounded and strained within her. She cried out her release when she felt him pulse inside her, heat and wetness filling her inside. He muttered a curse before sliding out of her and lowering himself to draw her into his arms, murmuring again in that language she didn’t understand as he ran a hand through her hair and she sighed into his throat. “Thank you.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Go away,” Sparatus snarled as the door opened.

“Okay, then,” Shepard said with amusement lacing her voice. 

He looked up and said, “It’s you. I apologize. The damn keepers have been attempting to rearrange my office all day. I swear, I will shoot the next one that comes in and tries to move my desk to the balcony or my terminal to Helix’ office.”

Shepard laughed. She looked exhausted but exhilarated after meeting with the asari councilor after dealing with the events on Rannoch. For the first time since the war began, he saw real hope in her eyes. She wouldn’t tell him why until he informed her that Tevos had already admitted to keeping the beacon a secret. Shepard stopped and gaped at him and then said, “It’s a beacon? Like on Eden Prime?”

“You didn’t know?” he asked.

“No,” she said, taking a seat on the couch. “She just said it was an artifact. If it’s a beacon…we really could learn something useful. This could be it. This could be the key to ending the war.”

“You don’t look tired,” he noted.

“I’m not,” she said. “I just want to get back out there.”

“Have you ever been to the base of the Tower?” he asked.

“No,” she drawled. He motioned for her to follow. She grinned at his terse command to Helix to keep the keepers out of his office.

Her smile died when she passed Alenko coming out of the Spectre office. The human male looked between Shepard and Sparatus with widening eyes. His face contorted into a sneer. He reached out as if to grab her arm and drag her through the door. His hand never made contact. Shepard had him face-first against the wall with his arm twisted behind his back before Sparatus could do more than growl. She rose onto her toes and said menacingly into his ear, “If you ever put your hands on me, Major, you will be learning to shoot with your feet. Is that understood?”

“What the hell are you thinking, Shepard?” Alenko said. “You hate him. Now you’re involved with him?”

She twisted his wrist further and said, “What I do during my downtime is none of your business. I thought I made that clear on the first _Normandy_. Now, you will go back, get your shit, and get the hell off my ship. I gave you another chance—something you know I do not do—and you blew it.”

“Shepard,” Sparatus said quietly. “Let him go.”

She released him immediately and stepped back. Sparatus herded the three of them into the Spectre office before al-Jilani could activate her camera. Damn reporter. Once in the privacy of the dim office, he stepped close to Alenko, using his height and the fact that most humans had an instinctive fear of turians, and said, “Agent Alenko, the Council granted you Spectre status with a great deal of hesitation. Thus far, your performance has not endeared you to us. You have drawn a weapon on a fellow Spectre performing her duties and have now attempted to assault that very same Spectre in full view of the public within the Embassies. This will not be tolerated. If you wish to retain your status, you will tread very carefully around Agent Shepard from this point forward. I believe you were there when she dealt with Arterius.”

Alenko’s eyes widened and he nodded tersely before pushing past them. Sparatus turned to Shepard when they were alone and said, “You could have allowed me to handle that.”

“It felt good, though,” she said. “Of course, it won’t feel as good when I have al-Jilani breathing down my throat. Diplomacy is…not my strong suit.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Yes, I heard how you dealt with Admiral Gerrel after he gave the order to fire on the dreadnought. And I was hoping that after the war, you would step up to replace Udina.”

“Me? A councilor?” she asked skeptically. 

“Think about it,” he said as he led her back into the hallway. “Councilors Valern, Tevos, and I have learned to heed your counsel. Your people look up to you. You are already representing their interests on a galactic scale. Your…occasional outbursts aside, you actually are skilled at diplomacy. You have brokered treaties between the turians, salarians, and krogan as well as the quarians and geth even though you do not care for the quarians as a whole. You have experience working with a mixed-species group. You ask no sacrifice of others that you are not willing to make yourself. You have none of Udina’s arrogance and hunger for power, nor do you allow your emotions to rule you as Anderson does. Even now, you restrained Alenko rather than attacking. You attempt to find a peaceful solution before turning to violence. I believe that you would be an excellent candidate for humanity’s representative.”

“You don’t think that would mix business with pleasure a bit too much?” she asked.

“We are already doing that, are we not?” he pointed out. He’d been thinking about this since the attempted coup. He had already discussed it with the others and they had agreed with his assessment. He’d planned to wait until after the war to bring it up, but this seemed to be a good time to plant the idea in her head. She would consider it and make her decision. 

Besides, he knew intuitively that she would likely find it difficult to return to serving only the Alliance after leading the galaxy in this war. She might remain a Spectre, but he did not foresee her remaining with the Alliance. He also expected that she would find continuing on as a Spectre unfulfilling. Shepard thrived on challenges and this war was the biggest one she was likely to ever face. Her Spectre duties after the war would be important, but what kinds of missions would truly call for a Spectre of her caliber? Becoming a councilor, however, would present her with daily challenges, and as much as he hated to admit it, they needed someone who was more soldier than politician. It had been a long time since he had served as a soldier and his reactions to threats in comparison to hers had shown him that he’d grown a bit soft. 

She had recognized the threat to the galaxy from the beginning and had been undeterred in attempting to prevent, delay, and prepare the galaxy for the invasion. They had not listened. If they had, would the death tolls be as high as they were? Would Earth and Palaven have fallen? Would they still be preparing even now for a possible recurrence of the Krogan Rebellions after the war was over? Regrets and recriminations were his constant companions despite his claim to her that blame could be assigned later. He had been the most skeptical of her. He had been the one to mock and ridicule her claims and to lead the others to do so as well. He knew precisely where the blame should lie and it was square on his shoulders.

He led her to the lift at the center of the tower. The elevator shaft was housed in the central pillar and connected every level. It could only be accessed by a handful of C-Sec agents with clearance, the Council, and the damned keepers, the latter of which preferred their tunnels. He’d never truly trusted those creatures after Shepard had revealed their purpose and origin. He shook off his irritation at them as the elevator delivered them to the subbasement and he directed Shepard to the hatch leading to the underside of the Tower. 

This was his favorite place on the Citadel. No one came here but keepers and duct rats and even they did not venture here often. He had explored every inch of the strange chasm that formed the underside of the Presidium ring and most of the passageways that led off of it. Several of them connected to the ward arms, but the rest seemingly went nowhere and they shifted often. He couldn’t begin to guess at their purpose. It wasn’t the chasm, though, that he sought now.

He led her out into the center of the base and stepped behind her to tilt her head back. Her amazed gasp made him smile. He’d suspected that she would share his appreciation for the view. It was the one place where one could look up at the Widow System without seeing the Citadel itself. The pinks and blues and purples of the gases and the particles that made up the hazy nebula surrounding the station swirled above them in the blue light of Widow, the star for which the system was named. In the distance, the constant electrical storm that made entry into the system nearly impossible but via the relay flashed and danced across the sky. 

“This is amazing,” she breathed. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually looked at the nebula. I’m always watching the Citadel when we come in. It’s beautiful.”

“Yes, it is,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist. Her head came back to rest against his chest and her hands joined with his. He nuzzled her hair and felt her sigh.

“I needed this,” she said.

“I thought you might,” he told her with a pleased hum. 

She chuckled and when he looked down at her curiously, she said, “Three years ago, would you have ever believed that we would be standing here like this?”

“Three years ago, I would have contemplated bringing you up here to throw you off,” he replied with a laugh. “I imagine you felt the same.” He sobered and said, “I should have listened to you.”

“What’s done is done, Sparatus,” she said. “We can’t change it. We can only move forward.”

“How many people died because we didn’t listen? That is not something one can simply move forward from,” he said.

She turned to face him and pressed her lips to his mandible before answering. “It sounded crazy. Even to me, it sounded crazy and I had the visions and I saw it for myself. If I had been wrong…”

“Millions wouldn’t have died,” he said. “It would have done no harm to us to prepare, even surreptitiously, rather than hiding it and denying it. We took the easy way out and now all of our people are paying for it. As councilors, we are going to make mistakes. We are people just like everyone else and we do the best we can. It is simply…difficult to see a mistake come to fruition because we are rarely the ones to pay the price. Those we are sworn to serve are the ones who suffer. And we must take responsibility for that suffering.”

“You have,” she said. “And that matters. I know it isn’t much consolation, but it matters that you care.”

He leaned down and placed his forehead against hers before whispering, “I am sorry, Shepard.”

“Don’t think about it,” she said. “Just be here with me right now.”

Her hands went to the toggles of his tunic and they undressed each other slowly. She pushed him onto his back on the hard surface of the Tower base and lowered herself onto him. He looked up at her with the light of the Widow bathing her skin and the backdrop of swirling color behind her and thought that he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's where things get dark. You've been warned.

EDI informed her that Kaidan was still on the ship when she returned. She felt a flash of irritation that turned to anger when she realized that not only had he not left, he hadn’t even packed his shore bag. That was fine, she decided. He’d just leave without it. Hackett had already approved his transfer. He was no longer assigned to her ship. She was well within her rights to physically remove him and wouldn’t hesitate to do it. She was, however, going to put on armor before dealing with him. She wouldn’t have expected to need it with him, but there’d been something in his eyes when she’d had her arm against his throat that had promised vengeance and she wasn’t going to take any chances. She hadn’t survived this long by taking her safety for granted.

She had just stomped her feet to connect her boots to her greaves when the door opened. She turned to see Kaidan striding in. He looked around the cabin and gave a long, low whistle. “Coming up in the world, aren’t you?” he asked.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told you to get your shit and go, Alenko.”

“Take a walk with me, Shepard,” he said, ignoring her question.

“No. Leave. Now,” she ordered.

A chill slid up her spine when he walked over to her, pinning her between himself and the aquarium. He was also wearing armor and his clanked against hers as he leaned in and whispered into her ear, “Take a walk with me, Shepard, or I will detonate the bomb I planted in your boyfriend’s office.” She snarled and opened her mouth to order EDI to warn Sparatus just in case he was telling the truth with his threat. Kaidan snapped, “Ah-ah-ah. You don’t want to do that. All I have to do is push a button. One word, one wrong movement, and he dies. And what do you think will become of Palaven if they lose their councilor?”

“The Primarch—”

“The Primarch is only in charge of Palaven, not the outer colonies. He has no authority over those without his councilor’s consent. Do you really think this is a good time for political shakeup?” he asked.

“You’re insane,” she hissed.

“Maybe I am,” he agreed. “Do you really want to test me?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. All she needed was an opportunity and she was far more likely to get one outside of her cabin than inside of it. If he got far enough away, she could charge him. He wouldn’t be able to react before she’d disabled his omni-tool. Or stopped his heart with a shockwave to the chest. She needed to find a way to get word to EDI or someone to evacuate the embassies. She had no proof that Kaidan had planted anything and wasn’t certain he could get past Sparatus’ assistant to do so, especially after Sparatus had put him on guard against the keepers, but she wasn’t willing to risk it.

She accompanied him out of the cabin and off of the ship with her hands clasped demurely behind her back. Surreptitiously, she tapped out S.O.S. into her palm with her finger and hoped that EDI would pick up on it. He’d been talking too quietly for EDI to pick up on his words normally, but if she enhanced the vid feed enough, she’d be able to pick it up. She would alert Garrus and Bailey and make sure that Sparatus and the others got out. Out on the Citadel itself, there were enough people that he would have a difficult time getting her away without drawing attention to himself.

They cleared the airlock and she began to look for her opportunity, but he moved behind her and she felt a click around her wrists. He leaned in and said, “What? You thought you’d get away? You think anyone here will help you? You forget I’m a Spectre, too, now and you’re the ‘disgraced Commander Shepard.’ Fight me and I’ll put you in stasis and tell everyone you’re under arrest for aiding Cerberus in the coup attempt.”

For the first time, she felt real unease. People would believe him. The only way she’d managed to convince the Council was with Sparatus’ help. She attempted to send a trickle of her biotics through her hand, but as she’d suspected, the cuffs she wore were inhibitors. She had no weapons, couldn’t activate her omni-tool for a tech attack, couldn’t use her biotics, and she was restrained. She was in public on a station with millions of people and completely at the mercy of a madman. She still had her brain, though. She wasn’t completely helpless. She just needed to figure out a way out of this. He shoved her into the lift. The doors closed and she felt his armored fist hit her temple and then everything went dark.

She woke lying on her back on what felt like a bed. Her hands were still cuffed and they’d been drawn up and secured to a headboard. Her feet were similarly restrained. Worst of all, she was naked. She looked around the room in an attempt to figure out where she was and recognized the studio apartments in the Commons. The knowledge that there was another unit just beyond the wall that potentially had people inside wasn’t reassuring. The units were soundproofed to prevent noise from traveling between them and disturbing the other occupants. She’d shot people in these apartments with no one the wiser.

The door opened and Kaidan walked in. His golden hawk eyes glittered and she wondered how she hadn’t realized that he was completely out of his mind. He’d played her, had played all of them, with that honorable soldier act and his feigned innocence. A slow, malicious smile played over his features and he looked her up and down. “You look good, Shepard.”

“What do you want, Kaidan?” she demanded, refusing to let her unease show.

“I thought that was obvious,” he said. “I want everything that should be mine and that includes you.”

“We fucked once,” she said derisively. “So what do you mean ‘everything that should be’ yours?”

He walked over to her and ran a hand over the top of her foot, around her ankle, and up her shin to her knee as he said, “You always were Anderson’s favorite, you know. He never really liked me. He certainly didn’t give me a ship or put me forth for the Spectres. Even when you were dead and then exiled to the Terminus Systems, he still resisted. It took _Udina_ to get me named. I’ve served longer than you. Did you know that? Jump Zero was run by the Alliance. It was one of the only ways you can get in the military before eighteen. I returned to the Alliance the year after you came in. And yet you promoted faster than I did. Your whole career, your whole _life_ has been nothing but fortune smiling down on you.”

His hand tightened almost painfully on her knee and she snorted and shook her head. “What are you talking about, Kaidan? Have you forgotten the Collector attack where I _died_ or the fact that I lost my entire squad on Akuze and almost died there or that my dad died when I was a kid? Come on, Kaidan, quit making excuses. Besides, you have no room to talk about promotions, _Major_. Whose dick did you suck to go from lieutenant to major in three years?”

He lunged forward and cracked his fist across her face. “Don’t talk to me like that, Shepard!” he warned. “You are not the boss here.”

“Fuck you,” she responded, spitting blood in his face.

“I’ll get to that. Don’t you worry,” he said and placed his hand back on her knee. She fought the urge to jerk away from him as it began to trail up the inside of her thigh. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you live a charmed life. So you died. You got brought back. You think anyone would have spent two years and billions of credits bringing me back to life? Hell, no. And, yeah, you lost your unit on Akuze, but you survived and they made you a hero. Even when you get handed shit, it always turns to gold the minute you touch it. I should have been given command of the _Normandy_ , if not after Eden Prime, then when the war started. I outrank you. I should have been made Spectre before you. If you hadn’t interfered, I would have been the one with the vision on Eden Prime. I would have been the hero.”

“So, since you weren’t, you decided to become the villain instead?” she sneered. “Are you that weak, Kaidan?”

He laughed and said, “Says the woman tied to the bed. I have all the power here, Shepard.”

“You’re pathetic,” she said dismissively as his hand reached the juncture of her thighs. She bit back the urge to gag and, thankfully, his hand began to reverse its trek. He was stroking her like one would stroke a lover while lying together in bed. It made her sick.

“You’re going to regret your insults,” he warned. “I could reave you until you’re too weak to move. I could suck the very life force from you if I wanted.”

“Then why don’t you?” she asked in a bored tone.

“I already told you,” he said. “I’m going to get everything I should have had and that includes you. You’re no good to me dead. No. I’m going to keep you here, waiting for me every day like a proper wife should.”

“I’m not your wife,” she said.

“You will be,” he said. “Because if you don’t, I’ll kill your councilor. And when I’m done with him, I’ll kill Garrus in front of you. I could do it, too. He trusts me. All I’d have to do is tell him I’d found you and needed his help. Then I’d bring him here. How broken do you think it would make him to realize he’d been betrayed by another teammate? I wouldn’t just kill him. I’d destroy him. So…you can cooperate, marry me, retire from the Alliance and the Spectres, and wait at home for me like a good little wife or I will destroy everything you love.”

“Were you always crazy, Kaidan, or is this a new thing?” she asked. “Did the Reapers get to you? Are you indoctrinated now? Should I start calling you Saren? Actually, no. I take that back. I don't care if you're indoctrinated or not. Saren at least thought he was doing what was best for his people. He was misguided. You’re delusional.”

“I told you that you were going to regret insulting me,” he said and his hand tightened around her thigh. Dark energy crackled and she could feel her own energy being sucked out through the point of contact. It hurt. Oh, gods, it hurt. But she’d suffocated and burned to death. It was going to take more than that to break her. He smiled again and said, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”


	7. Chapter 7

“I apologize for bothering you, Councilor,” Vakarian said over the comm. “I was just wondering if you’d seen the Commander. She isn’t answering her hails.”

“No,” Sparatus answered, rocking back in his chair. He could hear concern bordering on alarm in the other man’s subvocals. “I thought you were scheduled to depart hours ago.”

“We were,” Vakarian answered. “She isn’t here. She returned to the ship four hours ago, went to her cabin, put on her armor, and then left the ship with Major Alenko. She hasn’t come back.”

“Alenko?” Sparatus echoed, sitting forward in his chair. “Was she escorting him out?”

“No, sir,” Vakarian answered. “He went up to her cabin, said something in her ear, and she followed him out.”

“She wouldn’t have willingly left with him,” Sparatus said. “She’d ordered him off the ship.” He ran a hand over his fringe and said, “I’m on my way.”

 _She’s fine. She’s a Spectre. You’re acting like an overprotective mate,_ Sparatus chided himself as he left the office with an order to Helix to scan the Citadel for Commander Shepard’s omni-tool and forward anything he found to the _Normandy_. He stopped by his apartment on the way to the docks and retrieved his weapons and armor. He told himself it was just a precaution. She was fine. She was Commander Shepard. She was a force of nature and that pyjak didn’t stand a chance against her.

That didn’t ease his mind. Shepard was nothing if not responsible. If she’d scheduled departure for 1300, then the _Normandy_ was leaving at 1300. She wouldn’t leave the ship without a word to anyone and then miss her departure time without sending a message to her crew. He knew that there was no Spectre business that involved the two of them, but sent a message to Tevos and Valern to confirm that they had not given the pair an assignment. They had not. Helix couldn’t get a read on her omni-tool, either. Had they left the station? He sent a message to Commander Bailey and was informed that the station’s vid feeds were still down but none of his men reported seeing anyone matching their description boarding a shuttle or a ship. 

She was still here, somewhere. That only left five wards more than forty-three and a half kilometers long and the Presidium ring over seven kilometers in diameter in which she could be with each of the wards containing thousands of high rises and then there were the keeper tunnels and the ventilation systems and the labyrinth of the interior superstructure. A person could easily disappear on the Citadel and never be seen again. It happened all the time. 

Vakarian met him at the airlock and escorted him through the ship to the glass-walled briefing room where the members of her crew waited along with a mech that he quickly realized was an actual AI. He hummed a sharp note at Vakarian who said, “EDI’s safe, Councilor.”

The AI said, “I am loyal to Shepard and these are my crew. I would not act against their interests. I am concerned about the commander, Councilor Sparatus, enough so that I willingly showed myself to you in order to assist in locating her.”

He was going to have a word with Shepard about this, but deemed it unimportant until she was found. “What do we know?” he asked.

EDI said, “Commander Shepard returned to the ship at 1200 today. We were scheduled to depart at 1300 for Thessia. When she boarded, she inquired as to whether Major Alenko had left the ship. I advised her that he had not. She appeared agitated and went to her cabin where she proceeded to don her armor. Her cabin door was unlocked and Major Alenko entered at 1217. If you will turn your attention to the center of the table, I will play the vid feed from that time period. It was necessary to enhance the audio at one point and I have taken the liberty of removing background noise from that portion in order to clarify his statements.”

Sparatus watched as the male Spectre entered Shepard’s cabin. She looked irritated but not alarmed. That changed when the male blocked her between his body and the large fish tank behind her. The AI had cleared up the audio feed enough that he heard the warning and the threat against himself clearly. He ordered the AI to pause the feed so that he could alert Bailey to the bomb threat. The AI informed him that it already had. His office was being searched by C-Sec as they spoke, but nothing so far had been located. 

The feed resumed. As Vakarian had said, she went willingly. Sparatus was not entirely surprised that she had put herself in danger for him yet again, but did wonder if she did so as a Spectre protecting a councilor or as a woman protecting her lover. That, too, was unimportant at the moment, but he did file the question away for later perusal. He watched as she walked across the deck with her hands clasped behind her back and said, “Stop. What is she doing with her hands? Shepard does not fidget. That has to be deliberate.”

The AI played it back at a slower speed and the bulky human male said, “Well, I’ll be damned. It’s Morse code. S.O.S. It’s the international distress signal. Morse code hasn’t been used in a really long time, but we all still learn it in basic. Good job, Lola. She was trying to signal EDI that there was a problem. More proof she’s going against her will. Ahh. Hang on. There’s more. Damn it, I’m rusty at this. Play it again, EDI.”

“Track my tech,” EDI said. “She may have suspected that he intended to disable her omni-tool. The signature of her cybernetics, however, is unique. Scanning.” The AI paused and then nodded. “I have located her. She is in an apartment within the Presidium Commons. I will accompany you and can pinpoint her location exactly when I am in closer range. There is too much interference to narrow it down to a single unit from here.”

“Let’s go, then,” the human male said, slamming his hands against the table.

“No,” Vakarian said. “If Alenko is working in concert with someone else or if he decides to try to steal the ship, we need a force guarding the _Normandy_. EDI and I will go. Vega, Javik, and Liara, stay here and guard the ship. Do not let it leave this dock without Shepard. Vega, you’ve got the deck.”

“I’m coming with you,” Sparatus said.

“Councilor, forgive the insubordination, but you’re a politician, not a soldier. Alenko is a biotic and a Spectre. We know how he fights and we know how he thinks.”

Sparatus shook his head and said firmly, “I’m going, Vakarian. By law, the only people with the authority to take down a rogue Spectre are other Spectres and councilors.”

“Then make me a damn Spectre,” Vakarian growled. “Udina did it for Kaidan and I’ve had far more training from Shepard than he has. I’ve been on almost every single one of her missions.”

“Done,” Sparatus said. “I’m still going.”

Vakarian took a deep breath and said, “Councilor, why do you think she let him take her? She knew that losing you would be a blow to all of our people. Let us handle this.”

“I was a soldier long before I was a politician,” Sparatus said, gesturing to the case that held his armor and weapons. “I know what I am doing and I will not sit idly by while someone else rescues my—”

“Oh,” Vakarian said. “Huh. Okay. Okay, then. Suit up. But I’m leading this. EDI, that body took Kaidan down before. Think you can do it again?”

The AI nodded once. “I am certain of it. In addition, my presence may have a psychological impact on him and draw his attention from Shepard because it caused him such grave injury.”

Vakarian nodded and said, “We’ll wait for you in the airlock, Councilor.”

When they left, Sparatus donned his armor. He hadn’t worn it in years, but it still fit and as each piece went on, he felt the politician fall away and the soldier rise up to take his place. By the time he was fully dressed and had snapped his assault rifle on his back and his pistol on his hip, he felt more like himself than he had in almost a decade. He drew the attention of all of the human soldiers he passed and more than one stared at him with gaped mouths. As he strode out, he heard the one called Vega begin shouting orders in a command tone that didn’t fit with his casual appearance. The _Normandy_ was Shepard’s spirit and it would be kept safe. 

Vakarian and the AI fell in beside him. Vakarian was rumbling with a mix of anger, worry, and some deeper protective note that echoed Sparatus’ own. He still wasn’t skilled at reading human facial expressions and it was even more difficult when applied to a mech, especially with her eyes covered by the glowing visor, but if he hadn’t known better, he would say that the AI was bristling with indignation. That premise was confirmed when they entered the lift and it said to Vakarian, “He took our commander out from under me while I watched. If he has harmed her at all, I will kill him.”

“You’ll have to get in line, EDI,” Vakarian said. 

“As will you,” Sparatus told him as his hand tightened on the pistol attached to his hip.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really dark here but this is the last of it.

“They’re going to find me, you know,” Shepard said conversationally to Kaidan. “They know I left with you. By now, they’ll be looking for me. EDI will have enhanced the audio feed and been alerted to the threat against Sparatus. Garrus won’t trust you. You’ve drawn down the wrath of the _Normandy_ crew and you of all people know just how hazardous to your health that is. You didn’t plan this out far enough.”

His pace between her thighs didn’t falter and she tried not to grimace. She’d been nauseated since the first time he’d touched her and had been doing her best to redirect her attention from what he was doing to her. He grunted as he spoke. She curled her lip in disgust as she wondered how she’d ever considered him even remotely appealing. “They can try,” he said. “Hell, they can find you. I’ve fought beside them. I know their weaknesses. I know how to take them down.” 

“They know yours, too,” she pointed out. “Some of them, at least. Frankly, your bedroom technique left something to be desired the first time and age hasn’t improved it.”

His hand locked around her throat, cutting off her air supply, and he smiled sadistically down at her. “Do you still have nightmares about dying, Shepard? I watched it happen, you know. I could see you out there, alone in the void with the ship exploding in the background and the air venting from your suit. I watched you struggle to seal it off. And I watched you fight when you began to suffocate. Is this what it felt like? Does this remind you of Alchera, Commander?”

She couldn’t breathe. Her lungs were burning and she could do nothing but fight against the cuffs binding her wrists when everything in her screamed to claw his hand away from her throat. He applied more pressure and continued driving into her, bruising and tearing as he went. She attempted to use what little leverage she had in an unsuccessful bid to throw him off of her. It only served to sap her of what little oxygen remained in her system. She felt her lungs contracting painfully as they tried in vain to suck in air. 

He continued to speak, describing Alchera hanging like a giant blue marble against the backdrop of space, the ship— _her_ ship—breaking apart, the way the white gas looked as it leaked from seals that were just below the reach of her fingertips. He described in vivid detail just how close she’d been to reaching those seals and saving herself, at least temporarily, from suffocation and then spoke of watching her get sucked into the planet’s atmosphere, burning and dying like a meteor shooting across the sky. Panic bubbled and burst in her as he continued to hold her down, relaying precisely how long he could cut off her air before she suffered from brain damage and before she died. 

Her vision faded as he whispered insidiously in her ear, “Do you know how good it feels, feeling you fight for your life beneath me while I decide whether or not to fuck you to death, Shepard? I think I’m going to do this every time I fuck you. Over and over and over every day until one day…I don’t let go.”

He released her throat and she sucked in a deep gasping breath that felt like she had swallowed knives and broken glass. He laughed as she choked and fought the urge to gag. Before she was able to catch her breath, his hand was back around her throat. He pounded harder into her as he grunted, “Let them come, Shepard. They won’t make it through the door. Well…pieces might. I should record us. Don’t you think I should record us? Show that turian how I make you scream. Scream for me, Shepard. Scream my name or I’ll fuck you while you die.”

“I don’t think so,” a flanged voice said from behind him. His barrier flared between them and he leaned back to free her feet before he shoved roughly into her, placing his weight on her throat as he jerked her cuffs free of the headboard. She fought for consciousness and jerked her hands from his grasp to claw at the one on her throat. He rolled off of the bed as a shot rippled off of his barrier and he flipped her around in front of him. She dug her nails into the meat of his hand and he yelped and loosened his grip. Her breath screamed in her throat as she sucked it in and doubled over before throwing all of her weight back as hard as she could. The back of her head hit his nose and she felt hot liquid gush into her hair. 

He stumbled back and his barrier dropped. She had a moment of hope and then his hand was over her chest, flickering blue. “Nobody move!” he shouted. “I’ll reave her heart!”

EDI, Garrus, and Sparatus froze where they were. She ignored the clear look of anguish on Sparatus’ face as she caught Garrus’ eye and nodded almost imperceptibly. The shot rang out and Kaidan fell back. She threw herself out of his grasp as the inhibitor cuffs fell away. She turned and threw a shockwave back at him, throwing him into the wall. Kaidan clutched his shoulder and Shepard cast a look at Garrus, wondering why he hadn’t taken the much easier headshot. 

Her answer came when Sparatus leapt over the couch and stalked over to Kaidan with his pistol aimed at the human’s groin. Kaidan tried to scramble back against the wall. She understood why he was afraid. Every bit of the veneer of respectability that the councilor wore along with his name, power, and position had fallen away. Despite the armor and the weapon he held, he wasn’t even a soldier. He was a raptor, a hunter, a predator, and the male who’d harmed his mate was his prey. Garrus came to her and wrapped her in a blanket he’d found in one of the cabinets. EDI placed a hand on her shoulder, but her attention was riveted on Sparatus and she barely noticed.

He bent down and lifted Kaidan by the throat much like Saren had once done to her. The human’s feet dangled, kicking wildly as he thrashed against the furious turian’s grip. Sparatus snarled in his face and showed his teeth and Kaidan’s eyes went wide with fear. Very deliberately, Sparatus used those teeth to strip his glove off. He held his hand in front of Kaidan’s face and unsheathed his talons in a swift motion. Kaidan tried to scream, but no sound came. Sparatus cocked his head in a manner reminiscent of a bird of prey and said, “Is this what you wanted to make her feel? Are you panicking yet? Have your lungs begun to scream in your chest? Is your vision beginning to fade? Can you feel death breathing on your shoulder? You made a serious error in judgment, human. Only a fool lays a hand on a turian’s _vexorim_.”

She gave Garrus a curious look without taking her eyes off of the scene before her.

“A, uh, type of romantic partner,” he whispered.

Sparatus lowered his hand between Kaidan’s legs and she saw fat droplets of blood fall and spatter on the floor. Kaidan thrashed wildly, but that only served to dig Sparatus’ talons in deeper. He flexed his hand and jerked back, stating, “The penalty for rape in turian culture is castration. The penalty for attempted murder of a Council Spectre is death.” He sank his talons into Kaidan’s throat, severing the blood vessels, and let him drop. 

It was over. She took a step forward and felt the aches and pains in her body announce their presence. Bile rose up in her throat. She ran for the bathroom, making it just in time to empty her stomach of the meal she’d eaten with Sparatus earlier that day. Her throat burned in protest of this continued abuse. She saw blood stain the water and tasted it on her tongue. She heard water running behind her and then a cool cloth was pressed against her forehead. Sparatus turned her head to face him, and with a gentleness that belied his earlier actions, bathed her face.

“Come with me, Shepard,” he said, scooping her up in his arms. “We’ll get you to the hospital.”

“ _Normandy_ ,” she croaked out hoarsely. “Chakwas.”

“All right,” he conceded. He did something with his omni-tool and there was a crackle as the air shimmered around them. “Tactical cloak,” he explained. 

She laid her head against his shoulder and allowed him to carry her from the room. Garrus had found her armor and he wrapped it in a sheet and threw it over his shoulder before he and EDI followed them. “How did you…the door,” she gasped out.

“Your AI detected the explosives placed in the frame and Vakarian disabled them,” he said. “Speaking of which, we are going to discuss the fact that you have an unshackled AI aboard your ship.”

“She’s…crew,” Shepard said as firmly as she could manage. “And a…friend.”

“Yes,” he said. “I can see that. It… _she_ was very upset over your disappearance.”

Dr. Chakwas was waiting for her in the med bay and seemed not at all surprised when Sparatus dropped his cloak, virtually appearing right in front of her. The unflappable doctor directed him to lay Shepard on a bed and scanned her with her omni-tool. She shooed the others from the room and Shepard laid back and let the doctor treat her. She was glad that he’d conceded to bringing her back to the ship rather than to the hospital. She had enough problems with people like al-Jilani spreading rumors and undermining her every step of the way. 

She could just imagine what would be said when—not if, no matter how many privacy laws were on the books—this leaked. ‘Major Kaidan Alenko, the second human Spectre, was executed by the turian councilor today after kidnapping, raping, and torturing the disgraced Commander Shepard.’ ‘Commander Shepard, the first human Spectre, was discovered in an apartment today with Major Kaidan Alenko, the second human Spectre. Her claims of force have been dismissed by the turian councilor.’ _Okay, that one’s kind of funny,_ she thought as she began to laugh at the image of a reporter mimicking Sparatus’ air quotes. 

“Oh, good,” Dr. Chakwas said. “The medicine is working.”

“Did you drug me, Doc?” Shepard said with a grin.

“I did,” the doctor admitted shamelessly. 

“Hey! My voice works!” she exclaimed. “Sort of.” It still made her sound like a frog. 

“How do you feel?” Karin asked.

“Sparatus killed Kaidan. Dug his talons right in and ripped his balls off and tore his throat open. It was like he was making air quotes in his body! Oh, I have to tell Garrus that one! He’ll love it!” she crowed.

“This is supposed to put you to sleep, Commander,” Karin said.

“I don’t want to sleep,” Shepard said. “I want to see Sparatus. And Garrus. And EDI. They saved me, you know. They owed me because I’m always pulling their asses out of the…fire.” She yawned and trailed off. 

“Thank God,” she heard Karin mutter as sleep claimed her.


	9. Chapter 9

“How is she, Doctor?” Sparatus asked when he was allowed into the med bay again.

“Physically, she’ll be fine in a day or two. The commander heals quickly,” Chakwas said. “Psychologically, I’m not certain. She’s strong. She’s handled a lot, but she’s also under a lot of stress and has been for a long time. She bottles it up and won’t let anyone see it, but her biometric scans indicate an extreme level of stress for which _you_ are at least partially responsible. If you fools had just listened to her from the get-go, we wouldn’t be in this mess right now.”

“I know,” he said. “Believe me, I know.”

The doctor sighed. “Yes, I suppose you do. Forgive me, Councilor. Shepard is…she’s like a daughter to me. I’m a bit protective of her.”

“I am glad to know that,” he said. “How is this processed with humans?”

“It varies,” the doctor said. “Some people are able to shrug it off and go about their day giving it no more thought than they would a slap to the face. Some people are completely destroyed by it. I don’t think she will be the latter, but Shepard is very…particular about physical contact. With those she trusts, she engages in it freely, but she loathes it from those she doesn’t. I think the simple fact that he touched her at all is going to trouble her. I have no way of knowing how she will react. All I can tell you is to be supportive. She may wish to resume sexual activity almost immediately. She may need an extensive amount of time to do so. She may think she’s ready and then discover she’s not. Be patient.”

“And is there any chance he could have…”

“Impregnated her?” the doctor asked. “No. None.”

“May I sit with her?” he asked.

“Of course,” the doctor said. “I’ll leave you with her. Have EDI call me when she wakes up.”

He pulled a chair up beside her bed and took one of her hands in his. She looked better than she had before. The marks on her neck that weren’t covered by the medigel patch were beginning to fade. The large bruise on her thigh from the Spectre’s reave attack was turning a sickly yellow shade. The dark circles under her eyes were less pronounced. Her color had come back. It wasn’t enough. He wanted to see the light in her eyes again. She’d looked so…empty.

He didn’t think he would ever forget seeing her as she was when they’d entered the room. Her eyes had been wild and her lips almost as blue as that on Vakarian’s armor. Her lean, long muscles had twitched as her body suffered from the lack of oxygen and tried to fight off the attacker. He would forever hear the agonized sounds she made as she’d fought to draw air into her lungs through a throat that had swollen almost shut from the trauma.

Guilt washed over him. She was his on his station and he’d failed to protect her. It was one thing if she was wounded or killed in the line of duty. That was part of her job and he could no more save her from that than he could ask the Reapers politely to leave and have them do so. However, when she was not on duty, when she was not in the line of fire, she was his to safeguard. He had not done enough to ensure her safety. If not for EDI, she very likely would have died. He had failed to ensure that the security cameras were back in place. He had allowed the news agencies to continue to disparage her so that any cry for help she might have made would have been ignored.

Spirits, even his failure to publicly acknowledge his relationship with her had been to her detriment. People had to have seen her. Had any turian known what she was to him and witnessed her with Alenko either unconscious or seemingly under arrest, they would have contacted him immediately, knowing that he would never allow his mate to be dragged through the Citadel like that. He had been afraid of the negative publicity they could garner should they publicize their involvement.

His fears had been ridiculous. The Relay 314 Incident was over. Human-turian relations were stronger at the moment than any other. She had the support of the Primarch of Palaven and of one of the sons of an incredibly influential family. Though they had never been involved, her name had been linked with Vakarian’s in the past, and aside from that human woman from Westerlund News, it had never been in a negative way and was mentioned only in passing. If the savior of the Citadel could be linked with a Vakarian, then the savior of the galaxy could damn well be linked with a councilor. Tevos was with Aria T’Loak, for spirits’ sake, though that was not at all common knowledge. It was not common that councilors and Spectres formed relationships, but it had happened in the past and there were no rules against it.

He was going to change this. People would know that she was his. He cared deeply for her in a way that he would never have expected with a human and every protective instinct he had howled at the thought of her being in danger and every territorial one he had kicked into overdrive at the sight of another man’s hands on his woman. Oh, if only the man he’d been three years ago could see him now. Never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined that he would be seriously considering mating with a human and especially this human. He had all but hated her once and he knew the feeling had been mutual. And yet one of the best days of his life had been the day she’d come into his office seeking solace.

___

Shepard woke to find Sparatus sitting by her bed with her hand in his. She blinked up at him, wondering why he was there, and then remembered everything that had happened. Something was on her throat and she scrabbled to pull it off. He grabbed her hands again and said, “It’s a medigel patch! You can breathe. Easy, Shepard. You can breathe.”

“You saved me,” she said.

“I told you I owed you a personal debt,” he said. “And I didn’t save you so much as I avenged you. Your team saved you. Are you…how are you, Shepard?”

She laid back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “It was like all of the worst parts of Alchera and Project Base mixed together. I was so…helpless. I’m not used to feeling that way. I couldn’t _do_ anything. And he kept choking me and talking about the first _Normandy_ going down and me getting spaced and dying and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t _breathe_.”

“You’re safe now,” he said, drawing a finger down over her cheek. “It’s over. You’re safe. You can breathe now.”

“He touched me,” she said. “He _touched_ me. It was…revolting.”

“I am sorry we didn’t get there sooner,” he said. “I am sorry that this was able to happen to you.”

“Not your fault. You’re here now. That’s all that matters,” she said. "I think...I think he was indoctrinated. The Reapers, they were using him to get to me, take me out. I think...I think that makes it a little better. Easier to deal with. He was just as much a victim as I was."

"I don't care. He almost killed you." He leaned forward and placed his forehead against hers. The gesture seemed significant. She placed a hand on his mandible and found it trembling.

She stroked his fringe soothingly and said, “Hey. I’m all right. I’ll be okay.”

“I want you to postpone your trip to Thessia,” he said.

“I can’t,” she told him. “I have to go. If we can end this war even one hour sooner, millions of people will be saved.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” he said. “I can work remotely from the _Normandy_. There is nothing in my schedule that necessitates my physical presence on the Citadel over the next few days.”

“And if we find the key to the Catalyst?” she asked. “I won’t have time to return to the Citadel. I will take it directly to the Crucible project.”

“Then I will get the opportunity to see the device firsthand,” he said. “Valern has already toured it as has Tevos. I am overdue. We will watch the war end together. Unless, of course, you do not wish for me to be here. I will understand if you need solitude in order to recover from your ordeal.”

“No,” she said. “I want you here. I just don’t want to be responsible for the galaxy falling apart if you don’t make a meeting or something.”

“Ever the responsible one,” he said. “I will give you that. You always were.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Did you say you were on the _Normandy_?” Victus asked over the tightbeam connection. 

“Yes,” Sparatus said.

“She is alluring, isn’t she?” he asked.

“She is a magnificent ship,” Sparatus replied.

“Not what I meant,” Victus said. “However, the ship is nice, too. I think you will find the accommodations in the war room more than acceptable. I was tempted to beg Shepard to let me remain on board and use it as my permanent mobile command center. She’s a remarkable woman, Sparatus. Don’t be a fool and let her get away.”

“I don’t intend to,” Sparatus said. 

He ended the call and looked out at the projection in front of him. He desperately hoped that they would find the Catalyst and soon. His people were dying by the millions out there. He had been able to distance himself from it while safely ensconced on the Citadel. Even Sovereign’s attack had not brought the matter home. Being aboard a warship, however, did. Even during travel and even with the _Normandy_ ’s formidable stealth capabilities, it was still an ever-present reality. He overheard it in the conversations between the crew—conversations which were remarkably similar to those which could be overheard on any turian ship—and experienced it in the rush of escape from occupied systems when their scans were picked up by Reaper forces. He saw it in the faces around him and smelled it in the blood-soaked armor that Shepard returned in when coming back from the myriad small assignments that refused to allow them even a day of straightforward travel. 

He had realized that she worked hard, but he had not realized just how hard she worked. He had presumed that she was attempting to busy herself in order to keep her thoughts of Alenko’s attack at bay but Vakarian had told him otherwise. She had actually slacked off a bit since he had joined them. When Sparatus had expressed regret for taking her from her duties, Vakarian had thanked him instead and told him that she was actually eating meals and sleeping in her bed rather than propped up against a random bulkhead or against his shoulder on the shuttle after missions. According to the turian, there was a standing rule among the crew that if Shepard was sleeping anywhere on the ship, they were not to wake her unless there was an emergency. Anyone caught doing so would receive extra duty from Vakarian himself. 

He'd been surprised that she’d made a turian her de facto XO. He had expected it to be the bulky human lieutenant who seemed to be next in her chain of command and who’d so skillfully taken over the deck when they had gone to find her. He supposed that he should have anticipated her choice, though. She seemed to trust Garrus in a way that she didn’t many others. He had caught the silent communication between them when she’d given him permission to take the shot. Vakarian hadn’t hesitated and she hadn’t flinched. She’d had absolute certainty that he would not hit her in the process. He thought she was wise in her choice. The younger turian had proven himself capable and intelligent and in the absence of Helix as a sounding board, Sparatus found himself turning to Vakarian for advice as well. 

He was also somewhat surprised by the welcome he had received. He had anticipated being treated with reserved respect at best and as an interloper at worst. Thus far, it was only the pilot who seemed to resent his presence and even that he thought was due to protectiveness over Shepard rather than a personal dislike. Shepard had told him that Joker still blamed the Council for her death. Sparatus could not argue with him. Had they not been attempting to discredit her and get her out of the way in order to cover up Sovereign’s true nature, she would not have been in the Terminus Systems and would not have died. 

Outside of the pilot, however, most of her support crew was polite if a bit wary of him. Her mess sergeant was downright friendly and could make decent dextro meals. Her engineering crew had invited him to play poker with them, and while he hadn’t had time to do so, he’d appreciated the gesture. Since helping to save Shepard, her ground team had completely accepted him without question. He’d been absolutely stunned to learn that the diminutive asari who had a nervous habit of wringing her hands was actually the Shadow Broker. It seemed to be common knowledge among the ground crew and while Dr. T’Soni hadn’t confirmed it directly, her enigmatic smile was enough. It explained how Shepard was always coming forward with new information. She never ceased to surprise him and he wondered if he would ever truly know all there was to know about her.

He went up to her cabin and was unsurprised to hear the water running in the latrine. The marks had all but faded from her body due to the heavy skin weaves she’d gotten, but they weren’t so easily removed from her spirit. She was handling it better than could be expected but for the nightmares which plagued her with increasing frequency and her constant sensation of being unable to get fully clean. She would talk about it if asked and seemed to have accepted it, but the multiple showers she took each day belied her apparent calm. 

With a sigh, he went to her and stopped in the doorway. She was bent over in a pose that would have been elegant had she not been scrubbing so hard at her skin that she was on the verge of abrading it and had he been certain that all of the moisture on her face came from the shower. She ducked her head when she noticed him, causing her hair to fall across her face, and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. He heard her sniff before she said thickly, “Did you need something?”

“Why are you attempting to flay yourself?” he asked baldly.

“I can feel him,” she said sharply. “I can feel his hand on my leg and I can’t get it off.”

She sank down onto the floor of the shower and looked up at him. He stripped his clothing in quick movements and knelt in front of her. “May I?” he asked, holding his hand out for the sponge-like thing she was using. 

“Sure,” she said, slapping it into his hand. “Maybe you can get it off.”

He set the sponge aside and reached up for his own soap. It was more abrasive than hers, but he thought that might be precisely what she needed. “Where did he start touching you?” he asked.

“My foot,” she said. “And then over my ankle and up my shin to my knee.”

Very carefully, as his soap was essentially a pumice, he smoothed his hand over the top of her foot and circled her ankle with his hand. He watched her rather than his own actions and she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. He said, “He is gone, Shepard. He’s dead. He can’t touch you anymore.” He drew his hand up her shin and covered her knee. “There is only me. My hands and my scent are on you now, not his.” She swallowed hard but didn’t pull away. He covered the spot where the bruise had been before gliding up the inside of her thigh. She shifted slightly but it was to allow him access rather than to deny him as she had to this point. “He does not own any part of you. This skin, these places on your body, belong to you and by your choice and your choice alone, to me. No one will ever touch you there without your consent again.”

She reached out and he took her hand in his free one as the other curled around her hip and drew back down. “You are clean, Shepard,” he said. “You are not dirty. You are not tainted. You are not marked by him. You did nothing wrong. This was not your fault.” He was certain now that the drops that slid across her face were tears because he could see them casting silver trails from her eyes. He leaned forward and put his lips on hers in the human kiss she liked so much. “My touch is what you feel. My touch is all that you feel. Know that you are safe.”

She tilted her head forward and pressed it to his. “Make me forget,” she whispered.

He cleaned her body, careful not to harm her more delicate skin, figuratively washing away the touch that she hadn’t wanted, hadn’t chosen, and replacing it with one that she did. When he was finished, he led her out into the cabin and laid her down on the bed. He nuzzled her ear and said, “What do you want, Shepard?”

“I want to stop being afraid,” she said without looking at him. “I hate being afraid.” She looked at him then. “I want to face it on my terms.”

“You always do,” he said. “What do you need from me?”

“I want you to do what he did,” she said.

His mandibles clenched tightly to his face and he rumbled in dismay. “Shepard, I will not—”

“I’m not talking about force,” she interrupted, tracing the path of his thoughts. “I’m talking about the actions themselves. I…I need to control it. Or I at least need to know it’s being controlled by someone I…someone I trust.”

That, he could understand. He nodded and said, “If it becomes too much, say so or put your foot against my spur and I will stop. Is that acceptable?”

She nodded and he closed his eyes for a moment. She’d described to him what the man had done to her and while it was the last thing he wanted to think about while in bed with her, he also wanted to do whatever was in his power to help her cope. If that meant a bit of discomfort on his part, then so be it. He would give her the galaxy if he could and she asked for so little from him personally. She wanted a safe place and she had, for some reason, decided that he was the one to be that place. He would give it to her. He would give her anything that was in his power to give. As with the beginning of the war, he couldn’t entirely give her what she needed. Only she could do that. But he could help her get it.

He drew her hands over her head and rather than fastening them there, held them in one of his own. Her fingers slipped between his and held tightly. He gave her a reassuring squeeze as he bent his head and kissed her. The tension in her body slowly began to ease and he drew his free hand down her torso, covering every inch of her skin as he had with the soap. “You are mine, Shepard,” he said. “You belong to no one else.” He resisted the urge to focus on her trim waist and her flared hips and instead dragged a knuckle lightly between her folds. 

She gasped and moved shallowly against his hand. It was a start, but he intended to get more of a reaction from her than that. He sheathed his talons and circled the bundle of nerves at her center with the tip of a finger and her thighs parted. He waited until he felt her moisture begin to slicken her skin before sliding into her. She tensed for a moment and he stopped until she relaxed again. That seemed to reassure her because she opened her eyes and said, “I’m all right. Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t,” he said. “I will have you, Shepard, if it takes all night or all week or all year. I will have you by your choice, begging me, calling my name.”

Her eyes darkened and he was gratified to see that it was the beginnings of lust rather than fear in them. “I love your voice,” she said. “At least, when you aren’t being an ass.”

He grinned at her and bent down to nip playfully at her shoulder. “I am not an ass,” he said, “except when I am provoked.”

“I provoked you?” she asked with a hint of a smile. 

“You provoke me constantly, Shepard,” he said, stroking deeper with his finger. “You drive me to distraction.”

She gasped and rolled her hips to take him further and he returned his attention to his task. He did love these playful moments with her where she would momentarily forget the seriousness of whatever situation they were in and wondered what she would be like without the constant weight of the galaxy on her shoulders. He watched her as he stroked her, feeling the hot clench of her body around him, seeing the play of emotion across her face, judging the movements of her muscles as she responded to him. Even now, hesitant and nervous, she was enticingly responsive.

“Sparatus, please,” she gasped as his thumb brushed across her nub. Her hips rocked up into his hand and her grip on the other tightened. He could see the strain beginning in her body, the vibrations of her muscles, the tension under the skin. The sounds she made were enticing and he rocked his hips to allow himself to slide out of his plates as the pressure grew almost painful. She bowed up into him and repeated, “Sparatus, please!” as she convulsed around his finger. 

He withdrew from her slowly and shifted between her legs. “Tell me you want me,” he said into her ear. “Tell me you want to feel me inside of you, filling you, claiming every part of you.”

She wiggled her hips, rubbing against him, and said, “Please, Sparatus. I want you. I want to feel you everywhere. Touch me everywhere. I want you to bury yourself inside of me so deep that I can’t tell where I end and you begin.”

He slid into her with a groan, feeling her clench and draw and move around him in a way that no turian woman could with their stiffer walls and their plated entrances. She was built for this, designed to take him into her, and she molded around him like she was made specifically for him. He rocked his hips and began to move inside of her, whispering in her ear about possession and beauty and how she felt wrapped around him. When she threw her head back, baring her throat, he pressed his lips to it in warning and felt her tense around him. “Say stop or touch my spur and I will stop,” he reminded her, dragging his tongue over the hollow of her throat.

The fingers of his free hand traced along the line of her jaw before gliding down to circle her throat without pressure. “Breathe, Shepard,” he said and she drew in a heavy breath as he rocked into her. Her eyes opened and caught his as he began to apply the barest of pressure. Rather than stop when he saw fear begin to flicker in them, he thrust into her, angling his hips so that he brushed over the bundle of nerves above the place where they were joined. Her mouth opened slightly and he bent his head so that she could feel his breath fanning across her face. “Breathe,” he said again. 

He increased the pressure, restricting her just enough that she had to relax into him and he squeezed her hands again before turning his head to catch her mouth. He kissed her deeply, distracting her, and released the pressure before drawing away. She drew in a breath and sought his mouth again. This time, he cut her airflow completely, but only for a moment. Pressure, release, pressure, release. He wanted her focus to be on him rather than on her need for air. Her legs wrapped around his hips. He hesitated for a moment to ensure that she wasn’t asking him to stop and he pressed down again as he thrust into her. This time, he held her until he felt her begin to struggle for air and thrust sharply into her, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of her that made her cry out. She arched into him, seeming to forget that she needed to breathe, and he released his hold again. 

“Oh, fuck, Sparatus,” she gasped. “Do that again.”

He smirked triumphantly down at her and repeated the thrust as his hand tightened on her throat. Desire had overridden fear and now it was only heightening her arousal rather than dimming it. He thrust harder into her, feeling her move up to meet him now, and said, “Who do you belong to, Shepard?”

“You,” she answered when he released his hold on her throat.

“Say my name,” he ordered.

“Sparatus!” she cried out, arching up into him. 

“That’s right,” he said, tightening his hold on her and cutting her air off completely. “You have given yourself to me. I own you. I own your body. I own your very breath. And I will always…let you…breathe.” He punctuated his words with a quick series of strokes that had her bowed so far off of the bed that only her shoulders supported her and released her throat. She dragged in air and shattered around him. He let go of her wrists and moved his hands to her hips, pulling her into him as his own need broke. Her arms wrapped around him and her fingers scraped along the underside of his fringe and he spilled into her with a sharp groan.

He collapsed onto his elbows, holding himself up enough to keep himself from crushing her, and rested his forehead against hers. She trembled and he rolled onto his side, pulling her with him, and wrapped his arms around her. “Breathe with me, Shepard,” he said and struggled to bring his own under control as she matched it. She softened in his arms and rubbed her forehead against his throat in a way that sparked a tender sense of protectiveness in him. He had never seen her so soft, so vulnerable, so open before and he trailed his fingers gently through her hair. “You are beautiful, Shepard,” he told her. “You are brave and strong and tenacious and you take my breath away.”

“I…really care about you. A lot,” she said quietly. She tilted her face up and gently ran her fingers across his colony markings. “Thank you.”

“Do you think you are free of the urge to scrub your skin off now?” he asked lightly, taking a chance and trailing his hand down her leg. 

She moved it to allow him easier access and said, “I think I’ll be okay.”

“You always are,” he said affectionately. Spirits, he loved her.


	11. Chapter 11

Shepard braced her forearms on her knees and hung her head as she stared down at the floor of the shuttle. Across the aisle, Liara leaned into Garrus and cried softly. Garrus hummed reassuringly to her and Shepard could feel his worried gaze on her. Her brow furrowed as the shuttle jolted, making them sway. How the hell was she going to tell Sparatus, much less Tevos, what had happened down there? Slippery bastard, indeed. She could not believe that Kai Leng had gotten away from her again and this time with the data she needed to end the damn war. And the Illusive Man thought he could control the damn Reapers! She should have known he was insane when he wanted her to keep the Collector base.

The taste of failure lay bitter on her tongue and weighed heavy on her heart. She felt the shuttle dock with the _Normandy_. Never before had coming home felt so…empty. She didn’t want to get up. She didn’t want to step foot on her ship. She didn’t want to look her lover and her boss in the eye and tell him that she’d failed. They didn’t know how to finish the Crucible. They didn’t know how to end the war. Everything she’d done had been for nothing. Everything she’d accomplished ceased to matter. Hope was gone.

Duty drove her from the shuttle on dragging feet. She didn’t bother to go up to her cabin to change, choosing instead to use the armory in the shuttle bay where she kept a spare set of her officer’s fatigues. It was a silent ride to the crew deck and then up to the bridge. She stopped before the door to the war room and leaned into the bulkhead, feeling the normally comforting hum of her ship. She squeezed her eyes shut against the burning that consumed the backs of her lids and attempted to swallow the lump in her throat. 

She’d lost the war. To goddamn Cerberus. That cheap, dime-store, wannabe ninja with his ridiculous mask and his ridiculous ponytail and his ridiculous fucking _sword_ had beaten her and the most humiliating part about it was that he hadn’t even truly attacked them. No, his shields had taken the damage and his fucking gunship—what kind of cowardly excuse for an assassin had to hide behind a damn gunship anyway?—had kept them pinned down until he’d thrown Garrus into Liara in a single move and…and…and she’d lost. It didn’t matter how he’d done it. It didn’t matter that one-on-one and healthy, Thane could have killed him in a heartbeat. It didn’t matter that she and her team could have done it if he hadn’t had the gunship. He had and they hadn’t and now she had to face the music. She’d lost a planet. She’d lost the Catalyst. She’d lost the war.

Sparatus looked up as she came in and the tight lines of his face released as his expression melted into dismay and then a range of others as he interpreted her own and registered the ramifications. She expected him to shout. She expected him to be furious or disappointed or…something. And she saw it. She saw the anger and she stood there, open and broken, waiting for it to come. But then she watched as the councilor was tucked away and the man took over. He gestured for the crew to leave as he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms. 

“What happened?” he asked quietly. “Are you hurt?”

“We lost,” she whispered weakly. “Cerberus…I should have…I didn’t…oh, fuck.” She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face into his chest. Her body shook as the sobs wracked her and she felt his tunic grow damp under her cheek. He crooned soothingly and ran his hands over her back. 

“Easy, Shepard,” he said. “Breathe, love. Breathe with me.”

“I can’t…win…this war,” she gasped. “I failed. I failed. We were _so close_ , Sparatus. Vendetta was _right there_ and it was about to tell us and then _he_ showed up and he beat me _again_. I couldn’t save Thane and I couldn’t save Thessia and…I can’t save anybody.”

“Be quiet,” he said gently. “We will figure something out.”

She heard the chime of the QEC in the comm room and tightened her hold around him, clinging to him like a child. “How am I supposed to tell Tevos that her world has fallen and I failed her? Why aren’t you yelling at me?”

“I’m only going to yell at you if you give up,” he said. “You never give up, no matter the odds. Continue along that path and there is nothing to yell about.” He tilted her face up to look at him. “We all lose at some point, Shepard. You have won so often that you’ve forgotten that. Everyone gets defeated. What separates the soldiers from the civilians is that you get up and you fight again. As for Tevos, you must tell her, but you do not have to tell her alone.”

She rose up on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his mandible. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ve never had this before. Someone I could fall apart with who’d put me back together.” 

“That’s what love is for, Shepard,” he said, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Now, dry your eyes. Do not keep her waiting.”

___

Sparatus stood behind Shepard as she admitted her defeat to Tevos. He had never seen her looking so broken. Even after Alenko had attacked her, even in the depths of her pain, she had remained defiant, refusing to allow it to taint her. Of course, this was Shepard. He should have known that it would not be a slight against her person that would shake her to her core. In a way, she didn’t care what happened to herself. It was failing others that cut her the deepest. It always had been. 

She looked so different in this moment from the young, vibrant woman who’d railed against him on the Petitioner’s Stage, demanding justice and action from him. He had realized that the war was taking its toll on her, but comparing her now to the way she had been then, he could see every bit of her that she had given away. Her formerly smooth skin was now marred with the scars that spoke of her death and rebirth. The shadows under her eyes told of sleepless nights and the gauntness of her cheeks of missed meals and packets of nutrigel downed on the fly while moving constantly in an attempt to at first keep ahead of and now to stay at least no more than one step behind the Reapers. Her clothes hung loosely on her frame and he realized that her ribs and hips were far more prominent than they had been when they’d first come together. She had strands of silver in her hair that had not been there before, signs of age borne of suffering. He wanted to go to her and hold her again, to protect her from herself, but he knew that he could not.

After Tevos flickered out, she stood with her hands against the rail and her head bowed, looking for all the world entirely defeated. Then she squared her shoulders and stood straight and he felt a flare of pride and hope as she turned to look at him with flashing eyes. This was Shepard, the real Shepard, the one that no one saw. She faltered. She bent. She occasionally even broke. But the thing that made her everything that she was did not allow her to remain that way. She picked up the pieces, put them back together, and moved forward more determined than ever. This was why he loved her. 

She strode from the comm room as EDI rushed toward her, insisting that they needed to leave the system. She gave the order to get out and then turned to her people. In that moment, he saw what made them willing to follow her into the very bowels of hell itself. She would not let them see her break, but she did let them see her stumble. She admitted to her failings openly and then she rallied both herself and them. They didn’t care that she was not perfect. They only cared that she would never truly let them down. They would follow her into hell because they knew that she would always find a way back out. 

When the decision was made to go to Sanctuary and the crew had filed out, she turned to him and said, “I can take you back to the Citadel, but we can’t stay. I can’t risk letting him get away.”

“I can wait,” he said. “This cannot.”

“All right,” she said and nodded tersely. “Joker, take us to Horizon.”

___

That night, when she was lying in his arms, she said softly, “What did you mean, ‘That’s what love is for’?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, shifting so that he could see her eyes shining up at him in the darkness. “I love you, Shepard. I loved you long before I wanted to admit it even to myself. Why do you think that I defied the others to get you the Primarch? I believed in you, though it took me far too long to do so, and I could not bear to see your despair over the loss of your homeworld. Like I said, I could not give you what you needed but I could at least tell you how to get it. Tevos and Valern had not wanted me to do even that much.”

Her lips quirked up and she cocked her head like a fledgling turian. “You love me? Are you sure you’re still Sparatus? Do you maybe need to add air quotes around the word? ‘Love,’” she said in what he thought was meant to be an imitation of his voice. “‘We have dismissed that claim.’”

“You are never going to allow me to live that down, are you?” he asked, exasperated but somewhat amused.

“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “I ‘love’ you, too.”

He rolled her beneath him and pinned her hands above her head before playfully nipping her collar. “Say it again without the air quotes,” he said as she laughed and attempted to wriggle away from him.

“Fine, but first you have to say, ‘Commander Shepard, Sovereign has shown that your claims against the Reapers are true. Thank you for warning us and for saving the Citadel. We apologize for not listening to you earlier. We will begin taking steps to prepare for the coming invasion immediately.’” She paused and said, “‘And also, you are reasonable, intelligent, sane, not at all entitled, and a hell of a soldier, a shining example of your species. And, on behalf of Palaven, I apologize for trying to blow up one of your planets because your people did something stupid not knowing any better.’” 

He flared a mandible at her and asked, “Is that all?”

She appeared to consider it and her face lit. “Oh! ‘And from now on, the Council will pay for all of your gear.’” 

She took in the expression on his face as he shook his head at her and dissolved into laughter. His heart squeezed and he found that he couldn’t resist joining her. He loved hearing her laugh and so he decided to indulge her. He bent his head and kissed the side of her neck before saying very seriously, “Commander Shepard, Sovereign has shown that your claims against the Reapers are true. Thank you for warning us and for saving the Citadel. We apologize for not listening to you earlier. We will begin taking steps to prepare for the coming invasion immediately.”

She nodded and said, “Thank you, Councilor. I appreciate your consideration and your faith and will do everything in my power to aid you.”

He nipped her jaw with his lips and, punctuating each descriptor with a kiss, said, “You are reasonable…intelligent…sane…not at all entitled…beautiful…stubborn…infuriating…wonderful…and a hell of a soldier, a shining example of your species.” 

She hummed in pleasure and tilted her head to the side as her hands drifted across the back of his neck. “And?” she prompted.

He sighed against her shoulder and said dutifully, “And, on behalf of Palaven, I apologize for trying to blow up one of your planets because your people did something stupid not knowing any better.”

“Apology accepted,” she said and kissed his mandible. “Don’t forget the gear. Do you have any idea how much it costs to upgrade my Wraith? Or my armor? Not to mention supplying my team. I do not get paid _nearly_ enough for that. You don’t want me going into battle underprepared, do you?”

“And from now on, the Council will pay for all of your gear,” he said. Or, honestly, he would. She was right. He didn’t want her going out there with anything less than the best and she truly did not get paid enough to make sure that she and all of her people had the best of everything they needed. He supposed she could, but it left her with nothing to live on. If— _when_ , he corrected—she survived this war, she would not have the option of retiring should she so choose. He didn’t want her to keep fighting because she had to in order to survive and while he did want her on the Council, he didn’t want her joining them simply because she was burned out on fighting and had no other options. He wanted her to have the freedom to choose her own path. He had more than enough credits to ensure that she had all of the gear she needed and was able to save her pay.

“Yes!” she shouted happily and kissed him full on the mouth. “I love you, too, Sparatus.”

He smiled helplessly down at her, wondering when this woman had wrapped herself so completely around his edge fringe, and said, “You know, most women ask for jewels or clothing or a new skycar.”

“I’m not most women,” she pointed out.

“No,” he agreed, sliding into her and making her gasp, “you certainly are not.”


	12. Chapter 12

Sparatus missed Shepard. A mere week and a half on her ship with her, seeing her daily, and he was missing her after only a couple of days. His bed had felt too large and cold and empty without her. He found himself looking up from his work expecting to see her engrossed in her own reports. His office was too quiet at mealtimes and the citizens of the Citadel were too distant and wrapped up in their own lives. He missed the easy camaraderie of soldiers fighting together. He was beginning to think that if Shepard didn’t choose to join the Council, he would step down and join her crew. He was still young enough to fight and the training and instincts were still there.

He wondered if she would allow him to do that. They had spoken a bit of after the war but she seemed reluctant to discuss it at length. He knew that there was a part of her that believed she wouldn’t survive it. She avoided making plans for later because it would only serve to make it harder if she was forced to sacrifice herself. If she didn’t look beyond the war, she had nothing to lose if she didn’t survive it. If she did, then she not only died but her dreams died with her. He was a man of logic and reason. He knew her odds were slim. She would be leading the charge and the first ones in almost always died so that the later ones could live. The thought of losing her, of spending the rest of his life without her, was more devastating than the loss of both his wife and his mistress. The knowledge made him feel vaguely guilty, as if he was somehow betraying them, but it did not change the fact that he dreaded the end of the war as much as he looked forward to it.

He checked the reports coming in. The _Normandy_ and the Alliance’s Fifth Fleet would be hitting Cronos Station later today. They were simply waiting for the fleet to gather before moving. Shepard had told him that her Admiral Hackett believed—and she agreed—that a strike on Cerberus would signal the beginning of the end. Things were about to move quickly. He longed to be there with her. 

A part of him wished that he had never left the ship after finishing on Horizon, but he consoled himself that at least he had been there for it. It had not been as hard on her as Thessia, but the discovery that her own people were utilizing the Reaper’s technology on other members of her species had been difficult for her to bear. She hadn’t talked about it much, but Garrus had described it as a horror. She had missed Kai Leng, but had, at least, been able to save her friend and that had been enough to allow her to shake off the sights of the nightmare place and maintain her spirits. The tracker the friend had planted on Kai Leng more than made up for her missed opportunity to face him. 

“Councilor,” Helix said over the comm, “you’re on the news.” 

“Thank you,” he said and sat back in his chair with a smile. He set the vid screen to record as he activated the news report. Shepard would likely want to see this. If it was negative, they could laugh about it later. If it was positive, it would be a nice reminder. 

_Alliance News Network. Refugees fleeing to Sanctuary have been killed. The Alliance is warning civilians that Sanctuary was a front for Cerberus operations. In other news, Commander Shepard, the first human Spectre, and the turian Councilor Sparatus have publicly announced their relationship. This comes as a surprise to many given that tensions between the two races have only recently begun to ease and due to reports of a rocky start between the two. We spoke with Councilor Sparatus, who expressed that he hopes that their relationship will open doors for other human-turian couples to come forward._

_Welcome to Citadel NewsNet. This is Emily Wong. Today, we will be discussing recent events at the Sanctuary facility on Horizon. But first, I had the opportunity to speak briefly with Commander Shepard today via x-mail regarding the recent announcement of her relationship with Councilor Sparatus. The Commander stated: ‘Councilor Sparatus and I are grateful for the opportunity to continue strengthening the bonds between humans and turians. We hope that through our example, others will feel freer to openly display their own relationships. It is long past time that we let go of our residual hostilities and mistrust and recognize that our cultures are extremely complementary.’ When asked if there were any plans for a bonding ceremony, the commander declined to comment. We here at Citadel NewsNet wish them the best._

_Kalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani reporting for Westerlund News. In an obvious political move, Commander Shepard, the first human Spectre, and the turian Councilor Sparatus announced that they have taken their relationship from professional to personal. I attempted to contact the commander for comment in light of her recent actions promoting other species’ interests ahead of her own. The commander refused to comment._

“Be glad she didn’t punch you in the face,” Sparatus muttered as he clicked the vid screen off. He was glad to see that most of the reports were positive. It was some good news to give Shepard when he spoke to her again. 

“Councilor,” Helix said. “Commander Shepard is available on the comm. Would you like me to patch her through?”

“Yes,” he said. What was that human expression? Speak of the devil? The comm screen activated and Shepard appeared. He could see her space hamster in the background. She was in her cabin. “Shepard,” he said. “How are things on the _Normandy_?” He was almost embarrassed about how happy he was to see her, even if it was just a holo. 

“We’re just waiting for the Fleet to assemble,” she said. “I hate this part. Waiting. Would it be too forward of me to say that I wish you were here?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I have been wishing the same, to be honest. The news reports are beginning to come in.”

“Oh?” she asked, crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow. 

“They’re mostly positive. Al-Jilani, of course, isn’t happy,” he told her.

“When is al-Jilani ever happy?” she asked with a snort. “No political blowback?”

“None thus far,” he told her. “How long until you begin your attack?”

“An hour or so,” she said. “I keep feeling like I’ve done this before and in a way, I have. It seems like every major battle I’ve fought has come after a long wait with nothing to do but think. Ilos, the Omega 4 relay, and now this. I can think of far more pleasant ways to spend the time than sitting around going over my mission plan for the hundredth time.” Something flickered on her face at the mention of Ilos, but she shook it off. 

“I’m sure I could have kept you occupied,” he said, “but you wanted to bring me back.”

“Mmhmm,” she said. “And how close to caught up are you?”

“I’m a councilor,” he said. “I am never ‘caught up.’” 

She laughed and conceded his point with a nod of her head before growing serious. “What if I can’t do this?” she asked. “What if they beat us again or there is no Catalyst or we can’t find it in time?”

“You can do this,” he said certainly. “You are the most capable person that I have ever met. You are prepared, you have a fleet behind you, and you know from Vendetta that there is a Catalyst. Whether you are able to find it or not remains to be seen, but if anyone can do that, it is you. I have faith in you, Shepard. Stop worrying and breathe.”

She smiled softly and said, “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“With Vakarian, most likely,” he said.

She laughed. “No. We tried that once. It was a spectacular failure. Like…trying to kiss my brother. We ended up getting drunk and going down to the shuttle bay to do target practice. I had a bitch of a hangover on the Collector base until my cybernetics cleared it out. Garrus wasn’t so lucky, but he pulled through for me anyway.”

“He’s going with you, right?” he asked. There was no one else he trusted as much at her back.

She nodded. “Garrus and EDI are my ground team for this one. EDI thinks she can help circumvent their security. I’m just hoping they don’t have some kind of virus or something they can infect her with. I’ve got Tali standing by as backup. She’s good against Cerberus.”

“Be careful, Shepard,” he said. “Come back to me. That’s an order.”

“Aye aye, sir,” she said with a grin. “All right, Joker’s calling me. Time to go suit up. And, Sparatus…if this all goes pear-shaped and I don’t see you again…I do love you.”

He tried to ignore the tightness in his chest as he said, “I love you, too, Shepard. And I—” The feed wavered and then flickered. “Shepard? Shepard!” It cut out completely. “Helix, was that signal failure on our end or theirs? Helix? Damn it, what’s going on?” he demanded.


	13. Chapter 13

Helix ran into the office as it started to vibrate. Sparatus looked around in confusion. That felt like the ward arms moving, but no one had given the order to close the Citadel. A glance out of his window confirmed that they were, in fact, drawing in. He rose and went to the locker on the wall as he said, “Why are the arms closing?” 

“Reapers, sir!” Helix answered. “We’re getting reports of them pouring through the relay. Commander Bailey gave the order to lock it down. He also said to evacuate the Council to the _Destiny Ascension_.”

Sparatus shook his head. “Not this time,” he said. The _Destiny Ascension_ had only survived Sovereign’s attack because Shepard had sacrificed a good portion of her fleet to save it. That same fleet was now across the galaxy waiting to strike at Cerberus. The Citadel fleet was on its own and its flagship would need to be actively engaged. They were far safer on the closed station. Even Sovereign had needed to get in before it was sealed and had been unable to destroy it. “Send word to Tevos and Valern to rendezvous here. And, Helix, tell Citadel Command to announce that all residents are to open their homes to the refugees. We cannot have the docks full of people with nowhere to go if Reaper forces make it onto the station. They will be easy targets. And get me a line to Shepard.”

He donned his armor quickly, grateful that he hadn’t taken it back to his apartment, and strapped on his weapons. Tevos and Valern ran in a few minutes later, looking as afraid as he felt. “The Citadel is moving!” Tevos shouted.

“What do you mean, it is moving?” he asked, not comprehending.

“The Reapers are moving the station,” Valern said. “We don’t know where or why. We have given the order for the Citadel fleet and C-Sec Patrol to stand down. They will be destroyed if they do not and they will do more good being held in reserve for the Crucible.”

“Goddess,” Tevos said. “It truly does all come down to that. What if she fails?”

“She won’t fail. Damn it, Helix! Get me through to Shepard!” he shouted.

“I’m trying, sir!” his assistant responded. “They aren’t answering my hails. I got through to the pilot once and he said, ‘Kinda busy here. Tell the Council they can wait till Shepard gets back to get their report,’ and disconnected.”

Sparatus growled in frustration. Obstinate human. “Contact Admiral Hackett with the Alliance’s Fifth Fleet and tell him to patch me through to Shepard.” Normally, he wouldn’t risk distracting her when he knew that she was fighting, but this wasn’t a normal situation. She needed to know what was happening and he simply had to have faith that she was professional enough to handle it. 

Tevos asked why they weren’t evacuating and Sparatus explained his reasoning. In addition to doubting the safety of the dreadnought in comparison to the station, he recalled Shepard’s words about this being the end. He didn’t know why the Reapers were moving the station. He did know, however, that they had just been made a part of the final battle in some way. If they somehow managed to breach the station, which would not be impossible, C-Sec would not be able to handle it alone. The civilians were going to have to stand up and fight. Many were willing. More would be when they saw their leaders joining them rather than hiding away. 

The argument that the Council was more important alive no longer held sway. If they lost the war, it wouldn’t matter anyway. If they won, others could pick up their mantle just as easily and work to rebuild. Rallying the frightened populace, however, was something that only they could do. Tevos looked to Valern and both of them nodded and turned back to him. He was not surprised that they were willing to follow his lead in this. They had worked together for long enough to develop a system which utilized each individual’s strengths in any given circumstance. He was turian. War was his strength.

___

“Shepard, I have an incoming communication from Councilor Sparatus,” Hackett said in her ear.

“Can it wait?” she asked, dodging to avoid a turret before it ripped her to shreds. “I’m kind of busy here!”

“He says it’s urgent, Commander,” Hackett said.

Shepard paused behind the crate she was using for cover as Garrus and EDI overloaded the turret. Sparatus knew where she was and what she was doing. He wasn’t calling for an update or to say hello. He knew how dangerous a distraction could be. He wouldn’t call if it wasn’t a life or death matter. “Put him through,” she said.

The connection was spotty but she could hear him clearly enough to pick up the alarm in his voice. “Shepard! Do you read me?”

“I read you, Councilor,” she said, leaning out to blast an engineer that had gotten too close with her shotgun. “What’s wrong?”

“Reapers…Citadel…sealed…moving us…don’t know…” 

“Sparatus! Repeat!” she shouted. Beside her, EDI hesitated for a moment and the signal cleared.

“Reapers have taken the Citadel. We were able to seal it before they could get in but they are transporting us to an unknown location,” he said.

“Why would they move the Citadel?” she asked. Garrus called out the all clear and she sank down into a crouch as she tried to think. The Reapers had taken the Citadel. They had tried to take it over before to open the mass relay into dark space, but that was no longer necessary. They didn’t need a mass relay. The keepers had been in Sparatus’ office. The councilors were the only ones aside from Bailey who had the codes for the station controls. Liara had been watching the keepers. The keepers belonged to the Reapers. They were supposed to activate the Citadel relay. This was all ancient history. Why did it matter now? Ancient history…the visions from the beacon on Virmire began to flash through her mind. The Citadel. The Citadel. The Citadel. “Oh, shit!” she exclaimed. “Sparatus, get out of the Tower! Evacuate the Presidium altogether! Go to the wards and tell Bailey to order his men to shoot every damn keeper they see!”

She heard him relay her orders and only then did he say, “Why?”

“The Citadel is the Catalyst! The answer has been right there all along! It was in the vision from the beacon on Virmire but I thought it was connected to the Conduit. The Citadel has been the key the whole time. It probably connects somehow with the Tower like Sovereign tried to do. I don’t know. Damn it, we still have to find Vendetta. I don’t know how it works. All I know is that you are not safe there.”

“We are evacuating as we speak,” he said. “Focus on your mission. Find the VI. I will contact Admiral Hackett when we figure out where they are taking us.”

“Earth,” she said. “The Illusive Man is indoctrinated. They know we’re here and they know we’re going to figure it out. They’re taking you where they have the most forces to defend it and that’s Earth. Just hold out a little bit longer. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

She stood and lifted her shotgun as the comm cut out. She pushed thoughts of Sparatus and the Citadel out of her mind. She couldn’t afford to divide her attention now. The Reapers were defending the Citadel at the moment. They wouldn’t destroy it as long as they thought they could still use it for the next cycle. As long as he got away from the Presidium, he would probably be safe, at least until they were able to get there. Right now, she had a job to do and the faster she did it, the sooner she could go to him. “All right, people. Let’s move! We don’t have time to waste!”

___

Shepard was right. Station Control reported that the Citadel was stopped in the Sol System near Earth. Sparatus looked at the holographic images of the scans they’d taken and shook his head in disbelief. Shepard had been right when she’d said that Earth was being hit far harder than the rest. The Reapers were everywhere. Fortunately, they seemed content to simply guard the station and hadn’t attempted to make entry. Yet. It would come. Of that, he was certain. He sent word to Hackett confirming their location. 

They had moved to the C-Sec office on Zakera Ward and set up their base of operations. The other wards had accepted people from the Presidium and the docks as well. The station was on lockdown and the uncommon quiet was eerily reminiscent of the battle in 2183 aside from the lack of geth and krogan and the giant Reaper on the inside. C-Sec was monitoring the keeper tunnels and destroying each one they came across. He could hear the bass from the empty Dark Star Lounge mingling with the drone of advertisements and news reports in the empty hallways outside of the C-Sec office. It was surreal.

“Councilor Sparatus, sir,” Helix said, “the Reapers seem to have opened up some sort of beam between us and Earth. We’re receiving reports from Admiral Anderson with the Alliance of a large structure in London casting a beam of light up to the Presidium.”

“Bailey,” he said.

“On it,” Bailey confirmed, dispatching officers to the area. A few minutes later, he looked at them with wide eyes. “They…can't get to the Presidium. The keepers have done something to the walls. It’s blocked off. I’ll get them to blast through if I can but I don’t know… I’m passing the information to Admiral Anderson.”

“I have an incoming communication from the _Normandy_!” an asari said. “Admiral Hackett of the Fifth Fleet is addressing the military.”

“Our military?” Tevos asked. 

“All of them, ma’am,” the asari said. 

The human admiral’s voice filtered into the room. Sparatus had seen him via QEC when Shepard had briefed with him once and could picture him standing before the galaxy map on the bridge with Shepard behind him. She would be wearing her dress blues with the admiral aboard. He wondered if she was afraid or eager or simply calm now that they were finally about to take the fight back to her homeworld. 

_Never before have so many come together from all quarters of the galaxy. But never before have we faced an enemy such as this. The Reapers will show us no mercy. We must give them no quarter. They will terrorize our populations. We must stand fast in the face of that terror. They will advance until our last city falls, but we will not fall. We will prevail. Each of us will be defined by our actions in the coming battle. Stand fast. Stand strong. Stand together. Hackett out._

Sparatus admired the human admiral. He was concise, straightforward, and sensible. He didn’t give false hope or minimize their odds, but gave hope all the same. It was clear where Shepard had learned her style. He could almost hear the same words coming out of her mouth. The human admiral had taught her well. That was exactly the type of speech that would serve to rally and motivate the troops and the conviction behind the words was undoubtable. 

A short time later, Shepard was standing before the Council on the QEC from the forward operating base in London. They updated her on the situation from their end and listened to the plan as she outlined the purposes of the Sword, Shield, and Hammer teams. It was beautiful and terrifying in its simplicity. Sword would cut a path for the Crucible which Shield would defend while Hammer team pushed through to the beam in an attempt to reach the Citadel. Sparatus assured her that they would do everything they could to open a path and send reinforcements. If they could attack the problem of the arms being closed from both sides, they stood a chance.

Before she signed off, Valern thanked Shepard for her service and Tevos said, “Commander Shepard, you have served us well. You are a credit to your species. Whatever chance we have today is thanks to your efforts and they will not be forgotten.”

“Thank you, Councilor,” she said sincerely. “Be careful up there and good luck.”

The other two withdrew, leaving him as alone with her as they could get. Hearing the others say what could only be farewell made his gullet clench and his subvocals threatened to break on her name. He could see her doubts in her eyes. She wasn’t entirely unconvinced of their chances of winning, but whatever she was seeing on the ground had made her almost fully believe that she was walking into her death. The look she gave him was so tender and full of sorrow that he felt his heart begin to break. She attempted a smile and said, “Should I hang up on you now? You know, for old times’ sake?”

“Don’t you dare,” he said. “I will rescind that agreement to pay for your gear.”

“We can’t have that,” she said. “I have a feeling I may need new armor after this.”

“You could always join the Council,” he said. 

She gave a weak laugh and said, “Says the man in armor. Sparatus, if I don’t make it…”

“Do not talk like that,” he said, reaching out for her in holo form. She stepped forward. Her flickering blue forehead met his and her hand cupped his mandible. He couldn’t feel her, but the sentiment spoke clearly. “Come back to me, Shepard. That’s an order.”

“Aye aye, sir,” she said, almost too soft for him to hear. “But if I don’t, Garrus and I will save you a seat at the bar, okay?”

“I love you, Shepard,” he said.

“I love you, too, Sparatus.” 

The holo flickered out, leaving him holding only empty air. “Spirits, protect her,” he whispered into the empty room.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Sparatus is a bad ass.

The Reaper forces came as he’d known they would. They came out from the Presidium. They crawled up through the keeper tunnels and the ducts. They came up through the ventilation shafts in homes. The wards descended into chaos. He had hoped to keep close to Bailey and hold C-Sec. It quickly became clear that they could only do one. They held C-Sec, using the interrogation rooms to funnel wave after wave of husks, marauders, banshees, and brutes. Valern had configured his omni-tool to run multiple drones at a time and Tevos utilized her biotics. Sparatus provided the brute force. He reflected once that it was somewhat similar to Shepard’s own team, though they had all been behind a desk for far too long and he knew they wouldn’t hold a candle to hers. 

He heard a human woman scream and then she was running into the room with them. He didn’t recognize her at first as she was covered in blood and babbling incoherently. When he did finally realize who it was, he thought that the latter should have been a sign. Of all of the people to be trapped in a room with, Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani was on the bottom of his list. To his utter shock, however, once she realized that she was relatively safe and who they were, she calmed down, used her dress to wipe her face clean, and finger-combed her matted hair into some semblance of order. He growled at the sight of the camera floating beside her until she said, “This is Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani of Westerlund News coming to you live from C-Sec on Zakera Ward where the Citadel Council is valiantly fighting to defend against the Reaper invaders. Your leaders did not abandon you and have not forgotten you.”

A brute rushed the door and Tevos warped it as he threw a sticky grenade and emptied his thermal clip into it. It fell with a crash and Valern said, “Oh, good. Barricade.”

“Banshee,” Tevos said and they turned their attention to the mutated asari as it screamed. Tevos threw up a barrier around them and Valern sent his drones. Sparatus reached down for a new thermal clip and came up empty. A moment later, al-Jilani was slapping a new one into his hand even as she continued to report. She called upon the residents of the Citadel to follow the Council’s example and to take up arms to defend their homes and families. Not only that, but she relayed news coming in on her omni-tool from other reporters around the station who were doing the same thing and listed supplies needed at the hospital and clinics, requests from C-Sec, and reports from Earth about the battle in London where Diana Allers was covering Shepard’s push to the beam. Sparatus didn’t have time to listen to everything she said, but he breathed a sigh of relief with each new update about Shepard. She was alive and on the move.

The battle seemed to rage on interminably. C-Sec officers and civilian fighters came through and left in waves. Al-Jilani broke from reporting only to sip from the bottle of water she held or to answer hails coming in on the comm systems. She was moving even as she talked, stacking thermal clips within easy reach when they ran low, passing bottles of water and packets of nutrigel between waves, slapping medigel on wounds, warning of incoming waves, and more. He decided that he could forgive her for her negative reporting. When it mattered, she stepped up. 

And then she faltered. He had been taking down a group of husks when she said, “I’ve just received a new report from Diana Allers of _Battlespace_. She states that…oh God.” Tevos, seeming to sense what was coming, stepped in and took over against the husks. Sparatus looked over to find al-Jilani’s eyes locked on him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “She states that the Alliance is reporting that Hammer team…that Hammer team, led by Commander Shepard, has been decimated after a direct attack by a Reaper at the beam. They are reporting no survivors on the field. Hammer team…has fallen.” She deactivated the camera and sank to her knees. “Oh, shit. Councilor, I am so, so sorry.”

Sparatus swayed and put a hand on the desk behind him to catch himself. “She’s dead,” he said flatly. “Shepard is dead.”

“Maybe not,” al-Jilani said but he could hear the hopelessness in her voice. “Maybe…maybe they’re wrong. Maybe they just didn’t see her.”

“We need to get to the Presidium,” Valern said with more sympathy than Sparatus had ever heard from the old salarian. “We must open the ward arms from inside to allow the Crucible to dock.”

“He is right,” Tevos said gently. “We have a responsibility to our people to make every effort to open the station.”

The reporter looked at them as she reactivated her camera. “Councilors, C-Sec has been trying to get through to the Presidium for hours without success. The bulk of the Reaper forces are guarding it. If you try to get there, you’ll die.”

Valern said, “If we stay here and do nothing, we all die.”

Tevos drew herself up and said proudly, “As I said, we have a responsibility to try. If we go out, then we will go out fighting for our people. It is our duty and our honor.”

Sparatus looked between them and nodded. “It’s what Shepard would do. We need a plan.”

They conferred together quickly in that shorthand they’d used so many times before and formulated a plan that sounded a little less doomed to failure than the rest. When they’d decided on their course of action, al-Jilani stepped forward and held out her hand with her palm down. The councilors looked at her in confusion and she said, “It’s a human thing. Solidarity, teamwork, that kind of thing. Stack your hands on mine.” They did so with some hesitation and she said, “Councilors, I would like to apologize for my behavior in the past. It has been an honor to be here with you. Now, let’s go kick some Reaper ass.”

They broke apart and he was unsurprised when the reporter fell in with them. Typically, he would assume that she didn’t want to be left alone, but she had clearly decided that she was with them to the end. He nodded at her in acknowledgment and lifted his rifle once more. “Move out,” he said.

In addition to the keeper tunnels and the ventilation systems which the duct rats frequented, the internal superstructure of the station featured a series of passageways which were not on any of the blueprints and were known only to the Council and a few trusted Spectres. Their layout was recorded in the Archives in the event of the loss of the entire Council and could be accessed with appropriate clearance. Otherwise, they were shown to new Councilors by the existing ones upon induction. It was their hope that because the Reaper forces seemed to be directly targeting the citizens and the tunnels were almost never used, they would be clear. Sparatus instructed al-Jilani to turn her camera to audio only and swore her to secrecy. He hoped it would be enough, but decided that her revealing their existence was a problem for a later date if there ever was one. 

Their hopes proved founded. They met resistance, but it was minimal and mostly limited to creatures using the tunnels to move around through the station themselves. They took out the ones they found and pushed on. If they were fortunate, the tunnels would not be blocked off by the keepers and they would be able to access the tower directly. From there, they could activate the system to open the arms. He made a note that if they survived, they needed to set up access points outside of the Tower for situations such as these. He almost laughed at the thought. Hopefully, there would never be another situation such as this. 

He heard al-Jilani gasp behind him and turned with his rifle at the ready, but she was looking at her omni-tool. She looked up at him with a broad smile on her face and whispered excitedly, “Someone made it through the beam! Hackett just said, ‘She made it.’ It has to be Shepard!” Sparatus told himself not to hope, but a few moments later, Shepard’s voice filtered through the tunnel. He stumbled when he heard it and almost wished she hadn’t played it. Shepard was dying. He could hear the weakness and strain in her voice, could hear her pained gasps, could hear the agony as she attempted to move. She didn’t have long. They felt the rumble that signified the opening of the arms and he heard her speak to Anderson. The human admiral stopped responding and she called his name and then began to gasp weakly. A moment later, she said something to Hackett and then there was a grunt and she, too, stopped responding.

He broke into a run and the others followed, keeping pace with him in spite of their exhaustion and the need for caution. He had thought that the instinct to protect his mate was strong when he found her being attacked by Alenko. It was nothing compared to hearing the sound of her dying and knowing that he might not reach her in time. He pushed himself and his team without mercy, darting recklessly around blind corners and leaping across gaps leading down and away from their goal. Valern’s drones moved ahead and gave warning when something waited around a corner. The passageway flashed biotic blue as Tevos threw husks heedlessly into walls and warped marauders and banshees. He fired indiscriminately at anything that moved and was not them. 

“All fleets, the Crucible is armed. Disengage and fall back to the rendezvous point. I repeat, disengage and get the hell out of here!” Hackett’s voice rang out from the reporter’s omni-tool as they darted into the passageway leading to the tower. He thanked the spirits that it was open and didn’t slow. He didn’t know what the Crucible would do and didn’t particularly care. He just knew that he had to get to Shepard and get her out. If he lost her now, so close to her, he would never be able to live with himself. 

The station jolted, throwing them into the walls and onto the floor. They picked themselves up and threw their arms over their eyes to shield against the bright red, crackling light that washed through the passage. A husk running toward them disintegrated and they gaped at it. Then more jolts followed, accompanied by the sounds of explosions. It felt like the Citadel was ripping apart around them. He shouted Shepard’s name and bolted for the tower, ignoring the calls of his fellow Councilors. He thought he heard them pursuing, but didn’t look back to be sure. Shepard was out there. She was already hurt, dying, slipping away from him. He had to get to her. 

He took the steps up to the Tower subdeck and found the hatch he’d shown her only a few weeks before. He tried to push it open, but it wouldn’t move. He shoved his shoulder into it and it shifted just enough for him to determine that there was something on top that was blocking it. Tevos ran up to him, breathing heavily, and said, “Move aside.” He stepped back and she used both hands to send out a biotic wave that threw the hatch open and sent debris flying into the air. He ran through and stopped, looking at what had once been a familiar place and wondering where the hell he was.

The Crucible loomed above them, groaning against its trusses, and he could see Earth in the background. Reapers hung unmoving in the sky surrounded by fragments of what had once been the bulk of the galactic fleet. On the ground, blackened rubble lay scattered around turning a once-empty plain into a mountainscape. “Shepard!” he shouted. She had to be here, somewhere, buried amidst all of this rubble. 

“Commander Shepard!” Tevos called out. 

“Commander!” al-Jilani shouted as Valern called, “Commander Shepard!”

The reporter cast around wildly and said, “Don’t turians have an amazing sense of smell? Can’t you just sniff her out like a dog or something?”

He wasn’t sure exactly what she meant, but he understood the gist. “No. It’s slightly better than humans and we can smell pheromones that you can’t, but it isn’t that good. It’s our eyesight and hearing that is exceptional.”

“I’m picking up lifesigns!” Valern said, looking at his omni-tool. “Over there!”

Sparatus followed him to the center of the pile and then held up a hand for silence. He shouted Shepard’s name and then waited. A moment later, he heard something that sounded like a gasp and he turned his head, attempting to zero in on the noise. A pebble bounced, catching his eye, and he traced its path to what he thought was the source. He waved the others over and the reporter aimed her light at the spot he indicated. Again, Tevos proved invaluable. The pillars that covered Shepard were too heavy to move by conventional means. Tevos lifted them and tossed them aside as if they weighed nothing. The effort it had taken, though, was apparent when she collapsed into a sitting position on the filthy ground and cradled her head in her hands. 

The pillars had braced on what remained of the terminal, creating a hollow just big enough to allow Shepard to take shallow breaths. Her armor was charred and her arms and legs were badly burned. Her hair had mostly been seared off. Her face was filthy and covered in blood and one of her eyes had swollen shut. To his amazement, she was still awake. Her good eye rolled until it locked onto his face and she whispered his name. It was one of the most beautiful sounds he’d ever heard.

He bent down and carefully lifted her off of the ground, cradling her against his chest like a tired child. Valern scanned her and said, “We need to get her to the hospital now.”

He glanced back at Tevos to find the reporter helping her to her feet. “Can you make sure she gets back?” he asked. 

Al-Jilani nodded and said, “Go. You worry about Shepard. I’ll take care of the Councilor.”

He dropped back through the hatch and into the tunnels where he began to run as quickly and carefully as he could. Valern kept up with him and managed to inject her with medigel without breaking stride. Shepard looked up at him and said weakly, “Told you…I was going…to need…new armor.”

“Don’t die on me, Shepard, and I will get you any armor you want,” he promised. 

“Hurts,” she said.

“I know,” he told her. “Just breathe, love. Just keep breathing. Don’t stop.”

“Thought I was…buried alive…under there. Great for…immersion therapy. You…saved me…again,” she gasped.

“I still owed you a debt on behalf of Palaven,” he told her. “Don’t try to talk, sweetheart. Just focus on breathing. Spirits, please don’t stop now.”

“Followed…orders,” she said, leaning her head against his chest. 

“Yes, you did,” he said. “And I have one more for you.”

“Whassat?” she asked.

“Stay with me,” he said. 

“‘Kay,” she said and passed out in his arms. He increased his pace now that he didn’t have to worry about causing her more pain and was astounded that Valern met him step for step. He thought about what the two of them had done for her and how they hadn’t given up, about the tone of their voices when they’d thought they were saying goodbye, and realized that she’d gotten to them, too. He didn’t know why he was surprised.

___

 _Beep…beep…beep…beep._ Shepard struggled up through the darkness to the steady sound of monitors that told her before she opened her eyes that she was in a hospital or med bay. She’d woken up in them often enough before to be familiar with the scents and sounds. The squeak of shoes outside the door and the lack of hum from the ship told her that it was a hospital. She must have been badly injured, then, if Dr. Chakwas couldn’t patch her up. 

Images began to flood in of coming to Earth, saying goodbye to Sparatus via QEC, battling through the decimated streets of London, that final mad push to the beam, and the horror show that was the Citadel. She could smell the slaughterhouse that was the passageway where she’d come to and hear the gelatinous glop of blood dripping from the ceilings. It threatened to make her stomach turn and she pushed it away. Anderson. She’d killed Anderson. Her heart squeezed and the monitor faltered for a moment before resuming its steady beat. 

She remembered a wall of flame and then flashes of the Council digging her out of the rubble. That couldn’t be right, though. She’d told them to stay away from the Presidium and she just couldn’t see Tevos throwing burned pieces of concrete around like they were child’s toys. The memory of Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani with them seemed to confirm that it had been a hallucination. She wondered where Sparatus was and hoped he’d survived.

A hand stroked gently over her forehead. A three-fingered hand. A very familiar three-fingered hand. She felt her lips turn up in a smile even as she fought to open her eyes. “Shepard?” his voice said. 

“You made it,” she said in a voice that was rusty from disuse.

“I should be saying that about you,” he said and then she was looking up at him. The expression on his face was one that she hadn’t believed him capable of forming. If turians could cry, he would be laughing and smiling and crying all at the same time. Joy. That’s what that was. 

“Reapers?” she asked.

“Gone,” he said. “You did it, Shepard. You saved us all.”

“ _Normandy_?” she croaked.

“It docked last night. I’ve been expecting you to wake up now that your spirit is nearby. Your crew is safe. They all survived,” he said, answering her next question.

“EDI? The geth?” she asked, unsure of whether she wanted to hear the answer.

“Their mobile platforms were disabled,” he said. “EDI is still active on the _Normandy_ , though, and a number of the quarians have allowed geth to upload into their suits until they can fix the platforms.”

“Oh, thank god,” she sighed, relaxing back into the bed. “He lied.”

“Who lied, Shepard?” he asked, looking confused.

“The boy,” she said. “The boy who was the Catalyst. It wasn’t the Citadel. It was an AI within the Citadel. I think. It didn’t make a lot of sense. It controlled the Reapers. It didn’t want me to destroy them. Did…did Anderson make it?” she asked, hoping against hope.

“No,” he said gently. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. He didn’t. Admiral Hackett did, though. He has been in to see you on occasion.”

“How long?” she asked, trying to hold back the grief.

“Three months,” he said. “The war is over. We are picking up the pieces and starting to rebuild. The Citadel was badly damaged when the Crucible fired, but a lot of people survived and we’re putting it back together. We did it after Sovereign. We can do it after this. The relays were badly damaged, but the people of Earth have opened up their communities to those trapped in the system. The quarians had their converted liveships in the fleet and they are using those to provide food for the dextros. We have repaired most of the comm buoys in the area and are beginning to get reports from outside of the system. The Reapers are gone there, too. A fleet of turian ships left last month to attempt the journey back to Palaven. If they are able to make it, then we will be setting up a transport route between our two systems.”

She stared up at the ceiling for a long moment, trying to process everything he’d said. She eventually looked over at him and said, “I’d given up on thinking this story had a happy ending.”

“Alenko was right about one thing,” Sparatus said. “You are charmed. You can take the worst of something and turn it into gold.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I can’t argue with that,” she said with a smile. “I did it with you, didn’t I?”

___

_“This is Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani for Westerlund News coming to you live from the Citadel where Commander Shepard has just been inducted as humanity’s newest councilor. I spoke with the commander today and she expressed her gratitude for the opportunities provided to her by the Alliance and her experiences as a Spectre, but stated that she believes that accepting the seat on the Council will now allow her the best opportunity to serve not only humanity but the galaxy as a whole. It is this reporter’s opinion that there is no one more qualified for the position and we are fortunate to have her as our representative._

_In other news, the newly-minted Councilor Shepard and Councilor Sparatus have announced their upcoming bonding ceremony. This marks a turning point in relations between humans and turians as they are the first high-profile couple to do so. We here at Westerlund News wish them happiness. Again, this is Khalisah Bint Sinan al-Jilani, signing off.”_


End file.
